


North of the Wind, West of the Wilds

by spirallings



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - East of the Sun and West of the Moon Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fantasy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 189,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirallings/pseuds/spirallings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack was fifteen, he freed a dragon caught in a trap. When he was eighteen, the dragon came to him and took him to a kingdom believed to no longer exist, deep within the mountains where no human could climb. A kingdom where he was to be a companion to a prince who never showed his face and only appeared to him when the sun set, a prince who offered to fulfill all of Jack's family's needs, and Jack accepted.</p>
<p>A fragile trust broken, Jack must go right his wrongs and seek aid from the only ones who can take him to a land a mere human could not go; the four winds.</p>
<p>A retelling of the Norse fairy tale, "East of the Sun, and West of the Moon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Jackson Overland and his little sister Emma grew up alongside tales of the kingdom beyond the wood, beyond the mountains, a kingdom that no longer existed, so they say. A kingdom that may never have existed, a kingdom they whisper of in the dark, when the moon is high and the wind is cold. Tales his mother would whisper in his ear, mirth in her syllables and laughter in her vowels at his wide brown eyes full of wonder and intrigue. Tales his quiet father would smile and wisp an aside or a comment to add to his wife’s story in his soft voice, an arm wrapped around Jack’s shoulders.

 

She told him the stories of men strong of arm, bold and fierce as their god of the fifth day, and women ferocious and sharply beautiful as the winged warriors who carried the worthy to the realm of the gods when they breathed no more. Stories of their strength and bravery, fables of the winged and clawed beasts they warred with, tales of fire, iron, and ships patterned with beasts gripping at knots and ropes. She told him the stories warriors who fought dragons, and the legend of warriors riding the beasts who breathed fire, flying high above the clouds where the eye cannot see. She spoke of how they’d disappeared, and how their disappearance was the one mystery no one had an answer to. They left, and there was no trace of their existence, no hair, no shield, no sword stabbed into the earth. There was nothing left.

 

Jack was fascinated by these strong warriors, the tales of their valor, their failures, and their victories, and like any other child, he wanted to _know_.

 

“Where are they? Where did they go?” He whispered in a hushed voice one autumn evening, the wind creaking against the weak wood of their home, shadows dancing along the walls of the single lit lantern.

 

His mother chuckled, brushing a lock of stray brown hair from his forehead.

 

“Nobody knows, dear. They’d always been such a secretive peoples, unwilling to reveal where their home was, we may never even know where they may first laid their place.”

 

Dark brows furrowed. “Why? Did they not like us?”

 

His parents shared a smile, and Jack felt his father’s silent laughter against his side.

 

“They did not do it out of spite or dislike, Jack; they did it to protect their home. They were a people who were not afraid of war and battle, they were a people prepared to defend their home. But perhaps they were afraid of losing it,” his mother said kindly.

 

Jack was not completely satisfied with that answer. “But they’re warriors, why would they be afraid?”

 

His mother gave a sigh, smile on her lips as she shook her head. “Oh, Jack. It’s not that simple. Everyone has their fears, and a home is a precious thing to a person. To lose a home is the most terrible of loss all. Even the strongest warrior holds something precious to their chest and will do whatever it takes to keep it safe. One cannot blame the Berkians for being so afraid to reveal their home, they were brave warriors, indeed, but to be a warrior is to fight, and they were a people who’d had many enemies. Maybe they left because they were afraid to lose their home.”

 

The boy, young as he was at only eight winters old, still did not understand and crinkled his nose in distaste at the unsatisfactory answer. Why would such strong warriors be so afraid of their enemies as to leave, and without a trace? It made no sense to him. His mother only laughed and poked at his nose, laughing more at his startled yelp, cradling his young sister against her chest. He rubbed at his nose and huffed, but his mouth tugged upwards into a smile. His father huffed with laughter against his side, gently rubbing his large hand against Jack’s upper shoulder.

 

“But where did they go?” He asked once more.

 

“Perhaps they left these shores and sailed for another, perhaps they’ve hidden themselves deep in the mountains, or perhaps they were driven out by their enemies, maybe defeated. We will never know, not unless one tells us themselves.”

 

Jack played with the hem of his shirt and then looked up at his mother, “Do you think they’re still out there?”

 

She smiled and tapped at his forehead. “I am sure of it, love. And maybe one day, they’ll return.”

 

The boy grinned.

 

Jack’s family was not rich. They were not well-to-do and there was always an underlying sense of uncertainty and anxiousness with the arrival of winter and the death of the crops they grew to sustain themselves. Both of his parents worried constantly about whether or not they had enough food for both of their children, and both worked the harvesting seasons hard, stubborn and determined, so that Jack may have enough to eat and grow healthily, and grow just enough to live and sustain themselves. From a young age, Jack helped his father in the fields to plant seeds, gather food, and hunt because they needed all of the able hands they could, and he kneeled beside his mother as they gathered vegetables in their garden, milking the cow and the goat for all their worth so that they may have something to eat on the table. 

 

When his mother was pregnant with his sister, he aided to his mother’s every need alongside his father, who nervously fretted over his wife’s fragile condition, much to her amusement, and even heavily pregnant, she was determined to aid her family the best ways she could. They did not go hungry, but that did not mean that it would be a certainty that they would always have food on their table. When Emma was born, that meant more mouths to feed, more food to store and cultivate for the cold, brutal winter months, but not for one instant did his family ever think of his sister as a burden. Neither his mother nor his father could ever think of their children as burdens.

 

Jack was positively smitten with Emma when she was born, giving little moans, gurgles, and cries when her mother swaddled her in a warm blanket and handed her gingerly to her brother. With his wide brown eyes and nervous hands holding her close against him, he looked down at his sister, her face pink, chubby and warm, and she looked up at him with gray eyes that would turn hazel within months. She’d blinked up at him and raised a hand, and with her fingers, so small, so very small and warm, reached up to grasp at his chin. Jack blinked, grinned, and gave a little puff of air at her face.

 

She gave a squeal of delight and Jack knew he would do whatever he could to always make her laugh.

 

The clothes Jack wore were old, tattered, and worn, handed down from his father, even some from his grandfather. The soles of his shoes had holes in them and the leather and deerskin was torn and frayed at the toe, useless for keeping his feet warm. During the warm months, he abandoned the shoes completely, preferring the cool touch of the grass licking at his feet. In the winter, it was only his mother’s firm mouth and crossed arms across her chest that he would sheepishly put the shoes on when he went to join his father in looking for rabbits or deer to eat.

 

They were not the richest family in money nor in goods, but they were rich in affection. To such a degree that Jack would make faces when his parents got too cuddly for his liking, and so much so that he would yell in protest when his father would pull him in for a family hug, squeezing his son between them both. His mother would always tell him stories before bed, as she was cooking, as she was tending to their garden, as she was working outside. When Emma was born, she would sit between them both and tell them stories of a spectral boy and a girl who had a magical, giant goose for a companion. As Jack fell asleep, his father would smile and pat at his head. His father, gray eyes alight with a kind of joy and glint that Jack did not see in most adults, taught him how to skate on the ice of the lake just beyond their home leading into a forest, how to play all sorts of games in the fields when there was time to be spared, how to make an angel in the freshly fallen snow, how to have fun. When the night was clear, his father would take him outside to show him the moon and its beauty, its brightness, and how to talk to the moon. Jack loved watching the moon with his father, his mother’s stories in his mind.

 

When his father died of sudden illness during a wet spring, a cough that left him bedridden for weeks and grew into something his mother could not fix, something no herb could banish from his body, Jack, aged eleven, didn’t find much joy in watching the moon anymore. 

 

He did not ask his mother for stories before bed, nor did he ask for stories of how his parents met, of what his father, so full of a playful joy that’d stayed as a grown man and so full of a quiet resilience, was like when he was a child. She did not say much after her husband’s death and went about her duties to take care of the house and her two children, but her reddened and dulled eyes, tired lines, dark shadows and reddened all said what needed be said without her uttering a word. Emma was too young to wholly understand what happened to the father she barely remembered in images, but knew in his soft, gentle touches and his quiet laughter as he kissed her cheek before bed, and Jack wondered if that were perhaps for the best. The house was heavy with melancholy and mourning, and Jack could not breathe in the smell of spring, feel the dew on his feet when he stepped on the grass, and admire the colors of the flowers blooming as he normally would. But months passed, and Jack could not bear to see his mother’s tired, sad face and his sister’s confused frowns and her tears longing for her father’s touch, though she couldn’t remember her face, he could not listen to her pleas, asking where daddy was. He wanted to see them smile again. 

 

And so, where their father could no longer be there to entertain his children with tricks and clever movements of his feet, Jack made his sister laugh at his silly jokes, made her clap in joy and awe when he climbed atop the high wall and danced along the thin, narrow and unstable rocks on nimble, bare feet, and made his mother smile as he tucked Emma into bed, stroked at her bangs and told her stories of the spectral boy who lived in the clouds and talked to the moon.

 

Now that his father was gone, his mother depended on Jack to help her take care of the house, feed themselves, and to take care of Emma, as she could not do it alone, though she would never say such things aloud. His mother never requested for his help, but Jack did so anyway, waking up before his mother to milk the cow and the goat, checking on the vegetable garden, and taking the kitchen knife next to her to slice at carrots and celery. A harsh winter blew through their modest village and killed a number of their crops during his thirteenth year, and the winter months were hard, but Jack filled his chilled home with laughter and warmth as he made faces and absurd stories, quietly pushing more of his food towards his sister and his mother. His mother was not blind, she could see exactly what he was doing and loved him all the more for it, her heart tight and clenched. She did not bring it to attention, but her kisses against his forehead let her son know just how much she appreciated him, his selflessness, and her love for him.

 

He would smile, touch at his forehead, and the lines around his eyes would crinkle with his huff of a laugh, echoing against the cold walls of their home.

 

They were not rich, the winters were hard and cold, but Jack had his mother and his sister, and that was all he could ever want. He would not ask for anything more. He was happy.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is fifteen, he's playing hide and seek with his sister in the winds, and he stumbles upon a dragon. The first of many meetings.

 

The stories told around the bonfire in the village and the tales of travelers always said that dragons would attack anyone and anything at first sight. That dragons go in for the kill the moment you cross their territory or if you happen to be unfortunate enough to catch their eye. They were blood thirsty monsters who had a taste for human flesh, and they were always hungry. If you ever have the chance to kill a dragon and take its hide for your own, do it, they said. They will always go in for the kill, and should you cross a dragon’s path, go in for the kill first. That’s what they told him.

 

Jack found a dragon in the forest when he was fifteen.

 

The leaves were edged with reds, browns, and yellows at the roots, the colors spreading and preparing the fall, and the winds were beginning to turn westward. The harvest began and Jack aided his mother in stocking up for the winter months quickly approaching, collecting the grains, vegetables and fruits that grew in their garden. When she told him to take a break from helping her, that she was perfectly capable of managing the house for a few hours, Jack took Emma into the nearby woods and they began playing hide and seek. She’d nearly forced him out of the garden, her smile wry and affectionate as she gently pushed against his back to go play with his sister and told him to be careful. He smiled and said of course they would.

 

Jack grew up near the woods and knew them like the back of his hand. In the spring, his father would take him into the woods and press Jack’s small hands against the bark of the trees, telling him to find the difference in the textures of the species that lived and grew in the woods, the herbs they would use in their food, green plants they could eat, and plants that were poisonous and were to be avoided. His mother would take him, hold his hand, and tell him to listen to the chirps of all the different kinds of birds, how to tell the sound of a lark’s call from that of a magpie or a nightingale. Before his father’s death and taking up his labor, he would play with the neighboring village children in the woods, pretending they were the fae who lived in the small hollows in trees and who danced in the rings of mushrooms and flowers. He had his own secret places, little ponds and lakes he would dip his feet into on a hot day in summer, and where he would skate on their icy surfaces in the winter.

 

Emma had always been a bit more wary of the woods, especially at night when the wolves howled and called for each other. Jack would laugh, pat at her head, and tell her that the wolves were just talking and being a bit too loud in their chattiness. Sometimes he told her that they were singing (and badly, at that), to make her smile and not be so fearful of the wolves and the forest they lived in. So, when Jack took her into the woods to play hide and seek that day, she’d asked to be the seeker first and waited on the edge of the woods where she could see their house, and began to count. Jack grinned and felt his bare feet brush against drying leaves, soft soil, and fallen sticks, cool against his skin, as he ducked further into the forest and sprinted between the trees.

 

He knew he could not go far, that Emma would get too nervous to go deeper into the woods by herself, so Jack was mindful to hide in a spot in the woods that she could easily find him without being frighted by the sheer expanse of the woods. Somewhere she knew, a place they frequented. He wanted her to have _fun_ , not to scare her into thinking that her brother had gone missing or gotten lost in the woods.

 

Not that he could’ve. Jack scoffed to himself at the thought and grinned faintly.

 

He found the hollow in a great oak tree, a wide cave-like hole in the tree’s massive trunk that had enough space for himself and several other small children. It was a little hollow he would sit in, light a candle and make faces with the shadows that danced along his skin from the candle as he told stories of ghosts, dragons, and the fae that lived in the woods. It was one of his and Emma’s favorite spots, and he knew she would look for him here, though perhaps not at first.

 

His brown eyes fell first on the dark hollow of the tree, and with a grin, he moved towards it and made to squat down and sit in its comfortable darkness. He did not notice anything unusual at first glance. It was when he was about to duck down into the hollow that he saw the trees behind the great oak. 

 

Once having stood tall, the trunks were split in half, spines broken, and the tops of the trees were dipped low, branches touching the soil. Broken branches littered the mossy ground, fallen leaves scattered all about. Mouth parted in shock, Jack’s brows furrowed together and he stood up to press his hand against the bark, slowly running his palm against the splintered wood. He turned his head and looked around, turning on his heel, and saw more bent trees. His brown eyes followed the row of damaged trees and found a path of dirt on the ground; the soil and dirt was upturned and fell in a smooth, straight line.

 

Jack moved towards the path of upturned soil and felt at the ground, rubbing his fingers between the black soil. He lifted it to his nose and took a short sniff. It was fresh, he could feel and smell it.

 

He looked around himself, at the bent trees, at the path of soil. On the barks of some trees further up, he saw claw marks grooved into the wood.

 

His breath caught and he stood up slowly, his back stiff.

 

Only an animal the size of a bear could’ve caused so much damage. But.. Jack’s seen the kind of damage that bears have left behind in these very woods, and they were nothing like this. Nothing of this calibre had even been caused by a bear. No wolf pack could have done this, either. Whatever it was, it had to have been larger than a bear.

 

The skin on the back of his neck prickled.

 

Jack’s feet began to take him backwards, and his head started to turn towards the oak tree with the hollow inside it, eager to leave this behind him and forget he’d ever seen it. It was for the best to just forget; he was no hunter, whatever it was, he not equipped to face it if it came back (whatever it was). But his gaze returned to the damaged trees and the path of upturned soil. His stare lingered and his fingers rubbed against each other. Clenching his jaw tight, Jack exhaled and slowly walked forward, his bare feet sinking into the soft ground.

 

Where the path stopped, it dipped downwards along a hill and led towards a small pond connected to a river stream that had trees bending over the water. Jack kept his breath as even as possible, not too loud, not enough to attract the attention of whatever it was. Pulse racing, Jack looked over the edge of the hill from behind a large tree trunk, his hands clutching at the wood.

 

Laying still at the base of the hill, next to the the bank of the pond, was a dragon.

 

Jack’s jaw dropped.

 

The dragon’s scales were a warm auburn red shade and it was smaller than what Jack always imagined dragons to be. He’d always pictured dragons being the size of mountains, but this dragon was perhaps twice or three times the size of a full-grown bear. Not as big as he imagined, but still quite larger than himself, he could tell. Large, dangerous, and formidable. There were sharp looking frills and ridges along the dragon’s spine and he saw brown horns on the dragon’s skull, glinting in the sunlight. Jack could not see its eyes or its snout.

 

The dragon was so still that Jack was convinced that the dragon was dead and his chest constricted in a mixture of fearful awe and sorrow. The dragon was dead, the first dragon he’d ever seen, and Jack couldn’t help but think what a shame that was.

 

He wondered what the dragon might’ve looked like flying through the skies, alive and well.

 

Jack was about to retreat and go to the hollow, leaving the beast alone and continue the game with his sister, keeping the dragon in his memory-- when he saw the dragon’s side raise up and down slowly.

 

He stilled, his brown eyes wide as he watched the dragon breathe, and then he heard the soft rumble of breathing. The dragon was _breathing_ , but slowly and it was a strangled sort, as if it was having difficulty sucking in air. His feet led him before his mind could protest, and Jack began walking closer to the beast, his steps cautious and careful. His mind screamed with alarm and his instincts for survival raged, but his curiosity and the movement of his feet overpowered his better judgement.

 

This could be the first and last time he’d ever see a dragon, this was not a chance to go to waste.

 

The dragons scales glittered in the sunlight beaming through the open spaces in the branches of the high trees, shining a bright auburn red, and Jack was struck with the desire to touch, to feel the scales beneath his palm and see if they were as smooth as they looked. But Jack had enough good sense remaining to know better than to dare touch such a dangerous animal, even if it hadn’t seemed to have noticed his approaching closer. If it did, Jack was sure it would’ve attacked him already.

 

Then, Jack furrowed his brows.

 

The dragon was alive, and asleep or not, he was positive that it would’ve sensed him by hearing or smell by now. Why wasn’t it attacking him? Why didn’t it notice him?

 

Didn’t they say that dragons would attack the first person to cross their path, without hesitation?

 

His mouth set in a firm line, Jack took a couple gingerly steps forward, his eyes narrowing in on the unconscious dragon. As he got closer, his eyes focused on the dragon’s body, and his eyes widened.

 

A net with heavy metal balls was encased around the dragon’s neck, wings, and what Jack presumed to be the dragon’s legs. The net constricted tight around the dragon’s neck, pressing against the scales, and the dragon’s wings were clamped tight against the side of its body. The wings would twitch, trying to escape the bounds in its unconscious state, but the ropes would not budge. If anything, they seemed to tighten further, keeping its wings clamped tight to its body, and the shaky breaths from the dragon continued.

 

Jack bit at his bottom lip as his chest constricted with a sudden feeling of pity for the dragon. There was a spark of anger, too, because the dragon was clearly in pain and whoever hunted and shot down the dragon hadn’t even come to retrieve their prize. They’d just left the dragon to die, unable to free or even feed itself. Whoever had shot the dragon down, they were torturing the dragon by keeping it held like this, unable to even move closer to the stream to drink some water.

 

Jack wondered; how long had the dragon been here for? Stuck like this?

 

Jack didn’t know much (or anything at all) about the eating habits of dragons or their longevity, but like every other animal, dragons had to eat and this dragon could barely move, let alone hunt for its meals. If he left the dragon here, it would starve to death if the hunter didn’t come to finish the job first.

 

His jaw clenched and his brows creased, unable to tear his gaze away from the dragon.

 

No, no. He couldn’t just leave the dragon here to waste away or starve to death. He knew that dragon hunters were fairly common and taking down dragons were a high honor, the highest, but this.. This wasn’t hunting. This was meaningless cruelty.

 

He didn’t know what this dragon did to possibly deserve this; for all he knew, this dragon may have burned down an entire village, but he couldn’t walk away from this, not without feeling a sense of regret or shame.

 

Jack quietly stepped closer to the dragon, his hand slipping beneath his worn brown cloak, reaching for something attached to his belt. The pads of his fingers brushed against the frayed leather handle of the hunting knife his father hadgiven him when he was old enough to understand what it meant to hunt for survival.

 

A sudden groan cut through the forest and Jack jolted, nearly dropping the knife.

 

Breath stuttering, Jack’s brow furrowed and he looked back down at the dragon. The dragon’s head had moved just a slight angle. His breath caught and his eyes widened.

 

A green eye stared back at him.

 

It was awake.

 

The dragon was awake and it was watching him. Staring at him. Looking at him.

 

Jack couldn’t move.

 

Gods, he could barely _breathe_.

 

The dragon didn’t move any further, the head inclined just enough so that it could look up at him, and Jack was struck by just how green its eye was. It was a deep shade, the color of the trees in the middle of the spring, leading into summer, bright in the sunlight and dark amongst the fog in the aftermath of a rainfall.

 

_Wow_ , Jack thought stupidly, _it’s really pretty_.

 

That single green eye narrowed at him and the dragon’s lips curled into a snarl, and Jack nearly jumped again when he heard a low growl rumbling out of the dragon’s throat. The wings against its sides twitched and Jack took a couple steps back, startled and suddenly fearful that the dragon would break through the rope and go for his throat, but the ropes still did not come off. The dragon’s breaths grew quicker, its sides raising up and down with more speed, breathing through its nostrils, and Jack gripped at the knife in his belt out of fearful instinct. The dragon’s eye widened and its breathing seemed to increase further, its body stiffening and eye locked on the knife in his hand. It didn’t move, it only stared at the knife.

 

Jack looked down at the knife in his hand and back at the dragon. Sucking in a breath, he stepped closer.

 

The dragon’s breathing quickened as he stepped closer and its green eye was wild as it stared at the knife. Something between a growl and a whimper left the dragon as Jack stepped closer, only a foot between himself and the dragon. The dragon started to squirm, the noises getting higher and louder. The noise made Jack halt and he pressed his lips together, biting down on the bottom one as his brows creased. He looked down at the weapon in his hand, then back up at the dragon. The hand holding onto the knife lowered and he placed it back in his belt, the dragon’s eye following it the entire time he was moving it. Inhaling and slowly exhaling, Jack’s brown eyes met the green one staring at him. He swallowed hard, and he furrowed his brows at the dragon.

 

The green eye was wide and its pupil was so dilated Jack almost couldn’t see it.

 

It looked terrified.

 

Jack’s jaw clenched.

 

Steadying his breath, Jack bent his knees forward and he began to lower himself down, his movements slow and careful. The dragon’s eye flickered wildly and its breathing sharpened, and a high rumbling noise vibrating through its chest, a strangled sounding growl. Jack stopped and held both of his hands up, looking back at the dragon’s startled green eye.

 

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, it’s _okay_ ,” he whispered, brown eyes wide and a bit startled himself. His palms exposed towards the dragon, he held them up, making no move to grab for the knife again. The eye narrowed at him, and Jack forced a nervous smile at the dragon, making sure to keep his hands held up.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m--I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.” He raised his eyebrows imploringly at the dragon and the green eye bored into him, as if it was staring past flesh and straight through bone. It studied him, long and hard, enough for Jack nearly to start sweating beneath his collar and slowly, its breathing began to even, but Jack could see the tenseness in the beast’s muscles.

 

Worrying his bottom lip and trying to maintain his composure even as his heart beat wildly in his ears, Jack began to lower his hands. He looked back at the dragon, and it looked back at him. It didn’t make a sound, it didn’t growl at him; it only breathed.

 

Gods, Jack hoped that was a positive response.

 

Pursing his lips, Jack looked away, and finally lowered his palms and pressed them gently onto the dragon’s hide.

 

He was surprised at how smooth the scales felt against his skin.

 

They were an even more vibrant shade of auburn up close and a warmth emitted beneath the hard scales, like a pulse. Feeling at the dragon’s hide and slowly rubbing his palm against it, the skin felt far more leathery than he expected, each scale leading into the other and making his fingers rise as he smoothed the pads of his fingers over them. His brown eyes lit up, suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of complete awe; how many people got to touch a dragon and live to tell the tale? To really **feel** how they felt beneath their skin? Not many, he assumed, and yet here he was. It made him want to grin.

 

Now that he was up so close, he saw the indents into the scales the tight rope had left and felt his chest clench. The beginnings of a smile on his lips faded.

 

Still testing his boundaries, Jack ran his palm gingerly against the dragon’s side, stroking at it with a careful ease. The dragon’s eye was still watching his every moment, and it flickered between his hand and his face. Its breathing stilled when Jack began moving his hand, but then it evened it once more. The muscles beneath the hide began to relax. A soft rumble left the dragon.

 

Jack grinned and let out a breathless huff of laughter.

 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it..” he breathed, turning his grin to the dragon. The eye looked at him curiously, but still cautious. “See? I’m not gonna hurt you. Actually... I wanna help you.”

 

A grunting noise. The eye narrowed at him, some kind of emotion shifting in it. He’d almost call it _confused_.

 

“Really, I do!”

 

To know that he was speaking to a dragon, a wild animal rumored to breathe fire and rip men to pieces with a single claw, was a surreal sensation. Even more surreal was the possibility of the dragon actually being able to understand him. He was sure that many hunters, especially those whose missions were to hunt dragons, would laugh at him for talking to an animal that couldn’t understand a word he was saying and call him foolish for not taking this opportunity to take the dragon’s hide for himself.

 

But he wasn’t so sure that the dragon _didn’t_ understand him.

 

The green eye blinked at him and the lines around its eye relaxed. The dragon stared at him for another beat and then it closed.

 

If that wasn’t some sort of sign from the beast that it was going to trust him, at least for now, he wasn’t sure what was. And so, Jack inhaled and exhaled slowly, and started reaching for the knife on his belt once more. The dragon didn’t move and his fingers grasped the handle, his fingers clammy. He almost dropped it as he took it out from underneath his cloak, but he caught it and began to raise it towards one of the ropes. The dragon still did not move.

 

Sucking in a breath and his brows creasing, Jack sliced at one of the ropes. The net loosened around the dragon’s body.

 

A wing twitched at the sudden relief and Jack almost jumped back at the movement, other hand almost pressing against his rapidly beating chest. Breathing returning to normal once more, Jack pursed his lips and sliced another rope, then another, and another. The net continued to loosen around the dragon’s body and it slid against the auburn scales to the ground. Only on more to go. Jack moved the knife to the rope still wrapped against the dragon’s neck, and when the dragon’s eye opened and its muscles tensed, a startled noise rumbling in its throat, Jack laid his other hand on the dragon’s shoulder, where the wing met the dragon’s back, on instinct.

 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay... It’s okay,” he murmured, trying not to let his nervousness show. “Just one more, and then I’m done. One more, and I’ll go, all right?”

 

The dragon stared at him, breathing heavily, and Jack felt the tense muscles underneath his palm loosen. A smile spread on Jack’s lips and he gently patted at the dragon’s hide. The dragon still looking at him, Jack reached the knife over and, sucking in a large breath and blowing it out to calm his own nerves, his pulse racing in his ears, he sliced the last bit of rope. It fell to the ground.

 

And Jack almost got smacked in the face by a large, auburn colored wing.

 

Giving a startled yell, Jack fell back and landed on his rear, the knife falling out of his hand and onto the forest ground. The dragon moved so quickly it was easy to forget that the creature was left so immobile just seconds before. Luckily enough for him, the wing nearly smacking him in the face and almost breaking his nose reminded him just how fast these creatures moved. Groaning, Jack rubbed at the back of his head and sat up, his eyes clenched shut tight as he gave a little hiss at the mild pain. He opened his eyes and saw a pair of deep forest green eyes staring back at him.

 

Green eyes that were only inches away from his face.

 

Eyes wide, Jack didn’t dare breathe.

 

The dragon was much larger up close.

 

Much, much larger.

 

And those horns looked _very_ sharp.

 

Jack’s fingers dug into the cool ground and he swallowed hard, staring back at the dragon who looked at him unblinkingly, his brown eyes wide and positively terrified. He didn’t dare look away, and the dragon’s gaze didn’t shift. It remained locked on him. Jack’s eyes closed tightly shut when the dragon leaned in further and started sniffing at him, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Dirt balled up in his palms. He had no weapon on him aside from the hunting knife in his belt, and it was too late to grab it back. The dragon would rip his arm off from its socket before he could ever hope to reach it. Not that it would have much use on this dragon; the scales were too thick and too hard. They would never pierce through the hard, leathery skin. He had a chance to kill this beast when it was still immobile, and he didn’t take it.

 

No, he just had to take pity on it and set it free when it was just going to eat him in the end for all of his trouble. Great. He’d laugh at his own folly if he weren’t so terrified at the prospect of being eaten.

 

Gods, he prayed for the safety and long lives of his mother and his sister when he’s no longer on this earth, and with his eyes clenched shut tight, he was resigned to his fate.

 

At least he’d get to see his father again.

 

He felt something hard and warm bumping lightly against the side of his face.

 

Slowly, he opened his eyes to see the dragon pulling its head back from his face. The beast blinked its eyes at him and opened his maw, revealing sharp white teeth. Expecting a burst of fire, Jack raised an arm to fruitlessly protect himself with a startled cry, and the dragon made a loud warbling sound. Jack blinked several times, lowered his arm, and then gave a wide eyed stare at the dragon. And the beast just blinked back at him. The dragon took several steps back from him and perched down into what Jack guessed was a sitting position.

 

How... harmless and almost _cute_ looking.

 

(And he never thought he’d put the words ‘dragon’ and ‘cute’ together. Wasn’t it supposed to be tearing into his throat and lapping at his blood by this point?)

 

“Uh,” he said.

 

The dragon tilted its head at him and made the warbling noise again.

 

Now slightly less afraid of having the flesh ribbed from his bones, Jack started to stand up. He nearly stumbled a few times and he heard a strange huffing sound from the dragon, low and breathy. He looked up at the dragon and green eyes looked back at him. The dragon’s long tail swooshed back and forth slowly, twitching at the tip. Jack’s brows furrowed and he narrowed his eyes further at the dragon, hands pushing up from his knees as he moved to a proper standing position.

 

“Are you... Are you _laughing_ at me?” He said, voice hoarse and disbelieving. Maybe a little hysterical sounding.

 

Jack must’ve finally lost his wits because he _swore_ that the dragon was giving him a blank look, as if saying, ‘ _obviously_.’ The dragon made the huffing sound again and its tail twitched again.

 

“ _You are!_ ” Jack crowed. A laugh, full of disbelief and a hysteric sense of relief fell out of his mouth. The dragon’s eyes flickered with what might have been amusement, and its tail continued to twitch.

 

His laughs turning quiet and breathless, Jack ran shaking hands through his short brown hair, his feet shuffling about in a circle. “This is absurd..” he murmured. “A dragon is laughing at me. A _dragon_.”

 

This was what his sister would call, ‘a new low’ for him. She’d become a bit of a smart mouth, but this time, he would not disagree with her.

 

The dragon cocked its head and gave another warble deep in its chest.

 

Jack looked at the dragon and ran his hand through his hair again, still a little unnerved at having such a beast’s attention on him, looking at him so closely and intensely. “So.. you’re _not_ going to eat me?”

 

The dragon huffed through its nose, head twitching a little. It sounded annoyed.

 

Right, okay, don’t annoy or make a dragon mad, remember that, Jack. Note to self. “I’ll take that as a no, then,” he said, showing a nervous grin towards the dragon and raising his eyebrows in a way he hoped wasn’t threatening looking. The dragon didn’t appear bothered, it just flicked its tail back and forth as it blinked at him. If anything, it just seemed to be even more amused. Well, that’s what Jack thought. Hoped.

 

The dragon lifted itself off of the ground and onto its feet, and then the dragon took a couple steps closer to Jack, making him stiffen. While Jack was mostly sure that the dragon wasn’t going to eat him, there was still the chance that a single wrong move could make the dragon angry and change its mind, and he was not willing to take that risk. So, Jack stayed still and met a pair of intelligent green eyes with his own as the dragon stepped closer to him, then stopped, standing on all four feet, its wings folded against its back. After a long stare, the dragon began to lower its head, inclining its neck and moving its snout towards where Jack’s hands were; Jack faintly thought it looked like a bow.

 

The dragon made that warbling noise again, low and rumbling through its chest, closing its eyes, and Jack’s eyebrows rose in realization. His eyes, wide and full of amazement, looked down at the dragon’s head.

 

“Is.. this your way of saying ‘thank you’?” Jack whispered.

 

The dragon’s eyes opened and its mouth seemed to curl into a smile. It made a chuffing sound, and inclined its head downward again, like a nod.

 

Jack gaped and looking into that pair of deep green eyes, felt the sudden urge to touch, to see if this was all real and that he wasn’t dreaming or having a dying hallucination. Sucking in a breath, Jack began to raise his hands again. The dragon’s eyes flitted down to his hands and lifted back to his face. Jack couldn’t find it in himself to ask verbally, not sure if he had the power in him left to summon his voice, and hoped the dragon understood without being spoken to. Green eyes lingered on his face before they closed. The dragon leaned in and Jack exhaled a shuddering breath when his palm pressed against a warm snout. He could feel the dragon breathing through its nostrils. Its breath was warm against his skin.

 

The dragon understood his request. And accepted it.

 

Jack grinned toothily.

 

He gingerly placed his other hand on the side of the dragon’s jaw and began to rub at the leathery skin, and the dragon gave a small warble in its chest. The noise vibrated in its skin and it tickled against Jack’s palms, making him laugh. His grin softened and he smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling. Green eyes flickered open and met his.

 

“You’re welcome,” Jack said softly.

 

The dragon blinked at him and made a purring noise. Jack’s smile widened.

 

He was startled out of beginning to scratch his nails lightly against the dragon’s hard skin when he heard a familiar voice echoing between the trees.

 

“Jack?!”

 

The dragon’s eyes shot open.

 

Jack’s hands stilled and he looked over his shoulder where his sister’s voice came from. He remembered the game they were still playing and realized he didn’t know how much time had passed. He’d lost his sense of time the moment he found the dragon. Emma must’ve been looking for him for a while now... He turned to look back at the dragon, hoping to tell it to hide so that it didn’t frighten his sister, to tell it not to be scared of her, only just noticing the empty air his hands now held, and he saw only the tip of a long auburn tail disappearing into the trees. Jack looked up at the trees and the sea of green, oranges, reds and browns, finding nothing. He frowned, narrowing his eyes up at the treetops.

 

He didn’t even hear the flap of wings.

 

It was just.. gone.

 

“Jaaack!”

 

Standing in the middle of the clearing, the creek bubbling just a few meters away, Jack gazed up into the trees, searching for any sign of the dragon that’d been there only moments before. It couldn’t have gotten that far, could it? But the only thing he saw was the swaying of the branches in the low wind. His brows creased in disappointment and his eyes lowered to his hands. He rubbed his fingers against each other and ran his fingers along the lines of his palm, remembering the feeling of its hide on his skin, of how smooth and leathery its scales on its sides were.

 

Where he’d touched a dragon.

 

...He got to touch a _dragon_.

 

And **lived**.

 

A silly little grin curled on his lips.

 

Faintly, he heard footsteps and shoes crunching against fallen leaves and breaking sticks. They came closer to him and he only turned when he heard the call of his name.

 

“Jack! Found you!”

 

Lowering his hand, Jack grinned and turned towards Emma, who pat at the back of his elbow to showcase her victory.

 

“You did! Took you long enough, didn’t it,” he teased, his grin wide and eyes bright.

 

Emma scrunched her nose and frowned at him, confused. “You didn’t even hide. You’re just standing there!”

 

Her brows furrowed further in confusion when her brother burst out with laughter and ruffled at her hair. His hand lingered on top of her hair and he grinned, beginning to walk away from the clearing. When she peered at his face from the corner of his eyes, Jack was looking up at the treetops, a distant, distracted and silly looking expression on his face. She looked up and frowned when she didn’t see anything but red colored leaves.

 

“You raise a fair point, I’ll take that.” He gave another ruffle of her hair, looked down at her and grinned. Emma returned it easily, giggling at the hair ruffle and lightly smacked at his hand. He lifted his hand off of her head.“C’mon, it’s your turn to hide.”

 

Taking hold of his sister’s hand, Jack gave a final glance upward into the treetops where the dragon disappeared into. He narrowed his brown eyes at branches full of red and brown leaves, a wry smile curling on his lips. The wind rustled the leaves and some red stained leaves fell to the forest floor. Emma gave a slightly impatient tug of his hand and with a laugh, he looked back down at her with a smile and let her lead him along.

 

With the backdrop of the sun beginning to lower beyond the mountains, a pair of green eyes peered down at the pair of humans as Jack and Emma walked further away.

 

\---

 

When he was sure that no one was there, no one to see him, he came out of the brush and kneeled by the stream. He cupped the cool water in his hands and washed his face, the back of his neck, and poured some water in his hair. He was filthy, sore, and tired. The cold water wiped away the grime on his hands, his face, and his body. It rejuvenated him and relaxed his sore muscles. He sighed in content, taking off his boots and dipping his legs into the water. The moon shimmered on its surface, peering through the branches of the trees. Fallen red leaves floated gently on the water. Eventually, he decided that the opportunity to bathe while he could was too good to pass up, and so he stripped and dipped into the water. He gave a little yelp at how cold the water was, but he lathered it over his body, rubbing off the dirt, the grime and the dried blood. The water soothed his sore muscles and he rubbed at his neck. He pressed his fingers down on his neck lightly and hissed in pain.

 

“Great,” he grumbled. “Got a bruise already. _That’ll_ be fun explaining when I get home.”

 

It wasn’t the only part of his body that was bruised already. The water lapped at his waist and soothed the strained muscles on his legs, his abdomen and his arms when he dipped them into the water, allowing himself a few spare minutes to soak.

 

The trouble he now had to worry about was the process of getting home in the first place. Technically, he _had_ the chance to earlier, but the risk of being seen was too great. To travel in broad daylight was too dangerous and he needed to rest for a hours After what he’d just endured, he simply couldn’t risk it. No, he would wait. He would get home soon enough.

 

Shuddering from the cold water, he lifted himself out of the stream and dried himself off, shaking the last droplets of water out his hair before putting his clothes back on. As he was buckling his belt, he heard a rustling in the brush that made him stiffen. Holding his breath, he quickly reached for his helmet left on the bank of the stream. He held it inches from his face and was about to pull it over his head when he heard a familiar warble.

 

He gave a sigh of relief and lowered the helmet. A crooked grin grew on his lips.

 

“Hey, bud. I knew you’d find me.”

 

Big green eyes, bright and toxic in color, like the bottle green ink he would see being sold around the village, blinked at him and a large black snout nudged at his chin, making him laugh. He pressed his forehead against the snout and felt the purr the beast gave, making his bones vibrate. He smiled, soft and grateful, and rubbed his palm slowly under the beast’s underside of his jaw. 

 

Thank the gods non-human creatures didn’t effect it, or else he’d be doomed for certain.

 

The beast nudged at his cheek again with more force and he lightly batted the snout away with a laugh. “Toothless, _Toothless!_ I’m okay, really!”

 

Toothless narrowed his eyes and gave a low growl. The moon reflected off of the red tailfin and he gave a reassuring rub of Toothless’ head. He gave a somber smile and murmured, “Yeah, bud, I’m okay, I promise. The gods decided to gift me with luck this time.”

 

Toothless tilted his head at the thoughtful expression that formed on his rider’s face, eyes distant and a lips curling upwards at the corner of his mouth. The movements of his hand were absentminded and instinctual, not completely paying attention to him. He was distracted. Confused but eager to take his rider home, Toothless gave another impatient warble and nudged at his hands.

 

“All right, all right, we’re going!” Holding his hands up in surrender, he shook his head and laughed. His hands lowered and he hoisted himself up onto Toothless’ back, landing right onto the saddle and gripped the handle. He settled his tired legs on both sides of the saddle and locked his feet into the stirrups. He picked the helmet up and pulled it over his head, covering his entire face apart from his eyes. The metal on the face of the helmet was cold in the night air against his skin.

 

Gods, he hated this damn thing.

 

He hunched over and pushed his heel in the stirrup, and the red tailfin changed angle. Toothless was ready, spreading his wings and angling them, ready to push off the ground and take off beyond the treetops. But his rider hadn’t given him the signal yet.

 

Toothless tilted his head to look at his rider and gave a questioning warble. His rider was looking over his shoulder, still hunched, looking towards the edge of the forest. Toothless smelled the faint traces of a human early and nearly panicked before finding his rider, scared that he’d been hurt and had been relieved to find his ride safe and alive by the stream. When his rider didn’t respond to his noise, Toothless slapped at his arm with one of his ear fins.

 

“Ah-! Okay, bud, we’ll get going,” he laughed. Toothless gave a satisfied sniff. He rolled his eyes.

 

What a big baby.

 

“All right, bud...” he murmured, leaning forward again. His eyes narrowed on the horizon lit by moonlight. He felt Toothless’ muscles tense beneath him and the rumble of his large body.

 

“Let’s go home.”

 

The wind whipped around him as Toothless gave a great beat of his wings and took off into the sky, breaking past the treetops and leaves sliding against the beast’s sides, and straight on into the inky darkness of the night sky. Toothless beat his wings harder until he was high enough so that his dark body blended in with the sky dotted with stars, disappearing from any sight. When he was high enough that he could not be seen in the darkness, Toothless eased his pace and he purred at his rider’s hand rubbing at his neck.

 

Beneath his helmet, the rider smiled and then his eyes flickered towards the mountains in the west. Toothless was already flying towards them, and it would not be long until he returned home. His dragon was one of the fastest, and he was not worried about their speed; he was more worried about explaining his disappearance and the bruises to his father.

 

He gave a pat to the dragon’s side and turned to look over his shoulder. In the distance, just outside the edge of a forest, was a home with its windows lit with candlelight.

 

Green eyes stared as the house shrunk in size as the dragon flew away from it, and stared long at it until the house was but a mere yellow dot in the distance. 

 

Turning his gaze back to the mountains, the smile curled further on his lips behind the helmet. A hand raised to gently rub at the bruised side of his neck. His voice, muffled by the helmet, was but a whisper on the wind.

 

“..Thanks again, Jack.”  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lays face down on floor, wheezes, and gives thumbs up.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a wet spring morning, Jack meets the dragon again. He quickly learns that everything he's ever known about dragons is wrong.

Over dinner, his mother asked Jack how he and Emma spent their time away from the house as they took a break from working in the fields and the garden. Jack smiled and told her that they played hide and seek in the woods and he laughed off her concerned frown and assured her that they had been perfectly careful, they’d not wandered off or lost each other. He knew better than to let Emma wander around and get lost in the woods, which earned him a light kick of her heel against his shin. His mother had no fear of the wolves who lived the woods, but the thought of her two young children alone in the woods and possibly getting lost was a fear any parent would have. She just had to know that they would be careful, but as her two children sat down with her at dinner, alive, well and unhurt, she knew they were perfectly all right.

 

Jack would protect and take care of Emma. She trusted her son with that more than anything else.

 

Emma teased her brother about how easy it was to find him during the first round of their game, and he retorted that it would’ve been too difficult for her to find him if he chose somewhere else to hide. She said that he was simply being lazy.

 

His mother laughed at her son’s offended gasp and retort, defending his own cleverness, and she simply smiled as her two children bickered.

 

As they ate and Jack helped her clean the table and the dishes, she did not miss how his gaze would turn towards the woods, the moon half-concealed by the high trees, and how his brown eyes would become distant and thoughtful. She saw how he would occasionally pause in lifting his fork to his mouth and still while rubbing at a plate with a dry towel. She saw the soft upward quirk of his smile and the way he looked down at his fingers as he rubbed them together and pondered about her son. She did not ask him, but she kept her smile to herself and wondered what he came upon during her children’s game of hide and seek.

 

Emma curled up against his side underneath the blankets as she coveted for warmth and Jack contemplated, not the for first time that day, telling her what he saw in the woods that day. Who he’d met and what he had done. He thought about telling her of the auburn colored dragon with intelligent green eyes that looked at once so frightened and then so full of amusement and gratitude. He almost did, just as he was about to put out the last candle in their room, but when Emma fell asleep and breathed slowly and evenly against his side, he decided against it.

 

Instead, he crawled under the blankets after putting out the light, laid an arm across the pillows above the crown of Emma’s head, and stared at the moon through the window. His mouth curled into a ghost of a smile and he closed his eyes.

 

No, he wouldn’t tell her. Not right now.

 

If he told her now, he was sure that she’d be horrified over his recklessness, maybe smack him, and then tell their mother about how her big brother could’ve been eaten by a fire-breathing dragon, and then he’d never hear the end of it.

 

But also, he just.. wanted to keep this one thing to himself.

 

Jack wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to see the dragon again. The beast had been caught in a trap due to human hands, why would the dragon ever come back? Wouldn’t the dragon form a grudge against humans for that, no matter how well it’d treated Jack? No, Jack was sure it would never come back. And he could tell no one, not his family, and certainly no one in the village, for fear of a hunting party going after the winged creature.

 

So, he would keep that moment in his thoughts and in his memories. A memory to look back on and be seized by the sheer awe of it.

 

Jack closed his eyes and dreamed of a beast with auburn colored wings flying under the beaming rays of the sun.

 

Summer went to sleep and gave way to the winds of winter, and the leaves fell to the ground in shades of red, orange, and brown, leaving the branches barren and dark brown. The wind churned faster, fiercer and colder, and the leaves sank into the earth to be coated in the stark white of winter snow. The winter was hard as it always was, cold and unforgiving, but Jack kept his sister’s smile bright as they made snowmen, drawings in the snow, and threw balled up snow at each other even as the snow melted at the tips of his boots, making his toes so cold he almost couldn’t feel them. He and his mother kept their hearth warm and sat together under thick blankets of wool. Jack thrived in the winter and he would not let his sister nor his mother wallow in the cold, and so he did not. Throughout winter, he helped his mother cook, keep the house warm, and made both his sister and his mother laugh with his silly jokes and his mother told her stories to distract them from the cold. The cold meant little to him when he had his mother and his sister at his side.

 

Jack did not meet the dragon again until a wet and chilly spring morning.

 

To bring in at least a small modicum of income, Jack’s mother sewed blankets and quilts, often with Emma’s help now that she was older and knew how to handle a needle without pricking her finger and causing too many knots in the string. When she had enough money, she bought three sheep for their family. Two females, and a male. Jack was instantly in love with them and their blank brown eyes. With the same staff with a curved tip that his father had owned and made, his mother had Jack mind the sheep and keep them from straying from the house or wandering off when they were grazing in the fields. She’d said that they could provide another source of income for their family with their fine wool, and she trusted Jack to take care of them.

 

When she gave Jack the same staff that her husband made when he was a boy, she smiled and told her son, his eyes watering at the sight of the old wood, to take care of the staff and the sheep. He smiled and agreed, blinking back the stinging sensation behind his eyes.

 

Jack was diligent and watchful over the sheep when his mother was otherwise occupied, and he helped her built the gates they kept the sheep fenced in at night. During the day, he would open the gate and let the three sheep roam about, grazing, eating and sometimes sleeping, stretching their legs out. Jack would perch on a hill overlooking the sheep, swing his legs back and forth as he whistled to himself when he grew bored and occasionally played with his sister in the valley.

 

Sometimes, he would look into a gray or clear sky and try to find an auburn winged creature flying between the clouds. He would find nothing and return to looking over the sheep.

 

Watching over the sheep could be boring, at times, but when he had Emma join him, he would make her laugh by making faces at and startling the sheep. It made the long hours under the sun more enjoyable.

 

As spring approached, his mother told him in a hushed voice that they ought to create a pen for the sheep and to keep them close to the house when they slept at night, to make the pen high and tightly secured. She’d heard from their neighbors beyond the hills of the wolves stealing the sheep from their flock. Wolves did not typically venture into this part of the valley as they preferred to stay away from humans and mind their own territory, but perhaps this winter had been a difficult one for the wolves, lacking in the food they needed and were starving. And so, they would go after the sheep, slink into fields at night, grab a sheep by the neck between its teeth and drag it off into the woods. There was no definite answer for their change in behavior, and the wolves had not yet attacked a human, but they were still a threat to be dealt with and something to be concerned about.

 

The Overlands had only just received their sheep, they could not afford to lose them this early. His mother did not have to ask Jack to keep a closer eye on the sheep while they grazed in the fields. He already did just that.

 

And for more than a week, he made sure that their paddock was closed and that they did not start running off during the day, or wandered from their small flock. Occasionally, Emma would sit with him on a hill or a small boulder to watch the sheep so that he wasn’t lonely (to which Jack quite tartly protested against and said that he was, in fact, not lonely, much to her amusement), and they would sometimes play games such as tag and spooking the sheep when they were bored and the sheep were only grazing. At night, Jack would sometimes go to bed later than he normally would and he would stay awake in his room, a sleeping Emma curled up against his side as he listened for any sound of padded feet edging near the paddock. When his eyes were too heavy to stay awake, he would drift to sleep, and then when he woke, he looked out the window to find the sheep grazing lazily within their enclosure.

 

Rubbing at his eyes and ruffling already bed mussed hair, Jack would grin and join his sister and mother for breakfast before taking the sheep out to the pastures to graze.

 

For more than a week, Jack found no wolves trying to break into the paddock or slink through the pastures for their sheep. He did not see any yellow eyes, cunning and starving, peering at him through the shadows of the trees. He looked and looked and found nothing. After a week, he felt secure, safe, and content.

 

One day, that chilly spring day, Jack was watching over the sheep and he’d been awake far longer than usual the night before telling Emma stories of the great hunt, and he’d fallen asleep leaning against his staff, his forehead touching against the smoothened wood.

 

He didn’t hear the flapping of wings beyond the trees and he did not see the yellow eyes staring at one of the three sheep that’d wandered off too far from the flock. The sheep, one of the two females, latched her teeth around a flower beginning to bloom and ate it. She chewed and lifted her head to meet three pairs of yellow eyes.

 

Jack jolted and nearly knocked his forehead against his staff when the sheep bleated loud, startled and frightened. He almost fell off of the rock he was perched on when he saw the large, skinny and grey wolves that were beginning to surround the lone sheep, coming out of the woods with the slowness and ease of shadows that stretched when the sun was high. The two other sheep bleated in alarm and cried for their member of the herd to return, and Jack leapt off of the rock, nearly stumbling over his feet and ankles to get to the terrified sheep before the wolves could snatch her. They jolted back when Jack swung at one with his staff, barely missing hitting one of their snouts with the curved tip. Their yellowed teeth bared at him and Jack took a sharp inhale, his knuckles white against the dark wood.

 

They began to growl and extend their claws, slowly treading closer towards him, and then a larger growl rumbled through the trees. The leaves shook and the budding branches shuddered. The wolves froze in their movements.

 

A pair of green eyes glowed in the darkness of the woods.

 

The wolves ears flattened against their skulls and their tails tucked between their legs, wagging in jerky motions. They closed their mouths and crouched, their foreheads smoothened and Jack heard them whine.

 

The trees creaked and moaned as the dragon slowly crept from the foggy and damp shadows of the woods, a low growl rumbling deep in its chest and its mouth parted to show sharp white ivory teeth. The auburn scales glistened from the departed rain. The dragon crouched, lowering its head close to the ground, and narrowed its eyes at the wolves. Its eyes were dilated to thin slits and its green color glowed menacingly in the fog. The wolves whines grew louder and the dragon kneaded at the soft, wet ground, claws digging into the soil and making its mark. The dragon’s long tail rose and went still as a rod, the ridges along its back looking sharp enough to cleave meat smooth off the bone.

 

The sheep at Jack’s legs bleated and ran away to rejoin her flock, and Jack stared at the dragon as the wolves whimpered and fled, its leader barking at its pack mates to retreat. They disappeared back into the woods and their whimpers fell into silence.

 

A wolf knows better than to tread on a dragon’s territory.

 

The dragon huffed through its nose and stood up on its four legs properly. The lines around the dragon’s eyes softened as it looked at Jack, and he fumbled with the staff in his hand when the dragon let out a warble.

 

“Thanks,” Jack breathed, eyes wide and unblinking.

 

The dragon’s lips seemed to curl upwards and it gave another warble.

 

Jack was feeling a little overwhelmed that the same beast he’d freed from a trap months ago was here _again_ and **still** not planning to eat him, or his sheep. The dragon was right there, in front of him, peering at him through the trees and stepping out from the shadows. The dragon cocked its head at Jack and gave a questioning warble. Its green eyes blinked.

 

“You, uh, came back,” Jack said dumbly. 

 

The dragon chuffed in affirmation and took a few steps closer.

 

His hands relaxed their grip on his staff and began to lower from against his chest, and Jack felt a faint grin grow on his lips and he emitted a breathless laugh. He glanced once over his shoulder to make sure that all three sheep were accounted for; after giving the dragon wary and frightened looks, once they were sure that this larger creature that smelt of _predator_ and _hunter_ was not going to take them by the necks in its maw, they began grazing once more. They paid no mind to their shepherd, nor the dragon.

 

Jack let the staff lean against his front, the wood pressing lightly into the crook of his neck, and lazily let his arm hang off of it as he took a step closer towards the dragon and the dragon did the same. He was reminded of the dragon’s sheer size when its shadow fell over him as it took a couple more steps towards him. Jack swallowed and looked up at those green eyes that blinked at him.

 

He grinned. “Hello again.”

 

The dragon parted its mouth, showing its sharp ivory teeth and warbled at him, lips curling upwards. 

 

Jack wanted to believe that the dragon was saying hello back to him.

 

The brown cloak fell off of his right arm as he raised it towards the dragon’s snout. His brows raised and his eyes widened with a sudden uncertainty and question. The dragon blinked at him.

 

_May I?_ Jack did not ask.

 

The dragon closed its eyes, lowered its snout, and Jack felt those warm, smooth scales against his palm.

 

His grin widened toothily and Jack let out a breathless laugh.

 

It was not the first time he’d remarked to himself, as he stroked at the dragon’s scales on its snout, that he was one incredibly lucky, fortunate person.

 

\---

 

Jack did not think of the dragon every single day, but it wasn’t rare for him to look up at the sky and wonder if he’d see a flash of auburn scales, nor for him to strain his ears to listen for the sound of an inhuman rumble, growl, or warble as he investigated the rabbit traps he’d set in the woods.  Winter had already passed with no sign of the dragon ever returning, and Jack assumed that the dragon would never pass through these woods again, and yet here he was, scratching underneath the dragon’s jaw. Jack didn’t know what reasons the dragon had for coming back to a place that could’ve killed him, but he wasn’t going to complain or question it. Especially not before a great beast that could understand what he was saying and could kill him with a single bite or swipe of his claw.

 

Not that Jack, as he sat and leaned against the dragon’s side while watching the sheep, was worried about the dragon killing him.

 

If the dragon really wanted to kill him or eat him, it would have done so the day he’d set the dragon free from that net.

 

The dragon looked at him when Jack reclined against its side, its eyelids closing halfway and looking at Jack in a way that could only be described as flat and mildly annoyed. Jack yelped when the dragon huffed through its nose right into his hair, the sudden puff of warm air making the hair rise at the back of his neck and goosebumps form. He swatted at the dragon’s snout, nose scrunching in disgust and told the dragon to get its snotty nose out of his hair. The dragon simply chuffed with laughter and snorted at him.

 

Jack stroked and scratched at the dragon’s scales lightly as he watched the sheep, making sure that they did not wander off too far, and when they did, the dragon let out a low growl just as he made to stand up and direct them back to the herd. The dragon growled to tell them to go back and with startled bleats, the sheep returned and grazed, allowing Jack to relax and take a short nap against the dragon’s side. The dragon blinked its large green eyes at the human and stared, then they closed and the dragon lowered its head to the ground, the side of its snout curled against Jack’s side. Keeping its wings folded against its sides, the dragon remained like that, having the human napping against it and opening its eyes open in slits to make sure the sheep hadn’t wandered off.

 

Now that Jack no longer felt the pressure and awe of seeing such a great beast for the first time and the fears that come with releasing a dragon from a trap net, he got a better look at the dragon from up close when his eyes flickered open after a nice, short nap and found the dragon still dozing next to him. With a faint grin, he gave a light pat at the dragon’s side, the grin widening at the small grunt he heard in response. 

 

The dragon was indeed about twice the size of the brown bears that caught fish in the cold rivers deep in the mountains, occasionally wandering through the woods, and though it was not quite the behemoth-like size of the beasts depicted in story books, Jack was sure the dragon could strike fear into any unsuspecting human it came across. The dragon’s scales were an auburn shade, but the ridges on its back (ridges that felt like fins, Jack soon discovered when he ran his fingers over their edges as the dragon watched in bemusement), were an even darker shade of red. The dragon’s brown horns were uneven, reminding Jack of the antlers on stags and deer, though the horns were thin and not quite as excessive as the fearsome antlers on full-grown stags. Still sharp enough to prick his finger if he tried to the touch the tip, he was sure. The dragon’s tail was long, the ridges growing smaller in size the further along the span of the tail they went, ending in two tail fins in the same auburn shade.

 

What Jack found surprising was how skinny and lean the dragon’s build seemed to be. He could feel the muscles underneath the hard scales, but its four legs were thinner than what he’d initially thought or imagined. They were still far larger than his own limbs, maybe about twice the width of his own body, but the dragon did not have much bulk to it. Jack wondered if it had been the runt of its litter.

 

If dragons _had_ litters. He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like he knew anything much at all about dragons aside from what the stories told him, and now having met a dragon and been around it up close and personal, Jack was beginning to see just how wrong they all were.

 

Maybe this dragon was the exception and the exception alone, but the stories, everything he knew about dragons, they were wrong.

 

This dragon was nothing like the man-killing beasts in the stories.

 

But no matter how small the dragon was in comparison to the flying beasts he’d imagined in his childhood, he could still feel the power in its muscles underneath the scales with every movement, every breath, and every rumble.

 

Jack didn’t nap against the dragon for very long, rather surprised at himself for how relaxed enough he was to even fall asleep against it in the first place, but the dragon was warm and the air around him was still cool and wet. The scales were hard and smooth, but they weren’t unpleasant against his back. It was rather comfortable.

 

When a sheep wandered off, Jack jumped up and went to go bring it back to the small flock and the dragon remained reclined on the ground, simply watching the young man gently guide the sheep back with his staff. Upon bringing the sheep back, Jack introduced the sheep to the dragon by name; the two females were named Ann and Emily, and the male sheep was named Zach. The trio of sheep stared up at the dragon with frightened black and brown eyes, and the dragon blinked down at them. The dragon huffed a breath at them with its nostrils, a chuffing laughter rumbling in its throat. They gave little bleats of alarm and Jack chided the dragon for scaring them.

 

Reds, purples and oranges started beaming over the trees as the sun lowered in the mountains and dinner was approaching. His mother would want Jack home before dark, and he would have to bring the sheep back to their paddock and lock it tight.

 

Jack patted at the dragon’s snout and gave it a small rub, smile on his lips. “Guess it’s time to say goodbye, huh?”

 

The dragon blinked at him and warbled low and deep in its throat, nudging against his hand. Then the dragon lifted its head and huffed a breath at his face, making his hair rustle. Jack wondered if it was the dragon’s way of saying goodbye. The dragon took several steps back, away from him, and raised its head to the sky. Its green eyes flickered, observing the area around it, and Jack’s breath hitched as it began to unfold and spread its wings. They stretched out to their full length, shadows large and falling over the earth, and the dragon crouched.

 

It glanced at him once, rumbled deep in its chest, angled its wings and then pushed off of the ground with a single cry. The gust of wind from the pump of its wings made Jack stumble back, so powerful it almost made him fall over, and he looked up to see the auburn dragon dart across the sky, over the trees and flying so fast that Jack could not see where it’d gone.

 

Smile faint on his lips, he watched the sky even when he could no longer hear the flap of large, powerful wings in the distance nor a flash of auburn in the overcast clouds. He turned and led the sheep home, had dinner with his sister and his mother. When his mother asked him about his day and how the sheep were, if any had run of, or if he’d seen any wolves, he smiled and said no, he hadn’t seen any, and the sheep were perfectly fine.

 

Emma glanced at her brother as they ate, her mother and Jack talking about the quilts and blankets that they’d sold that day in the village marketplace, and regarded him thoughtfully. He was looking at their mother with the appearance of paying perfect attention to her, a grin on his lips and nodding along, but his brown eyes were distant. Not sad, not upset, just far away.

 

It was a look she’d seen on his face many times the past several months, ever since that day she’d found him standing alone in a clearing in the woods, looking at something beyond the trees.

 

Emma knew her big brother, and she knew that he couldn’t have only watched over the sheep that day. If only he would tell her what he did.

 

She decided, despite her own burning curiosity, that she would wait until he told her.

 

After dinner, with Emma curled against his side underneath the thick blankets, Jack fell asleep to thoughts of large auburn red wings and warm scales. 

 

He still told his sister and his mother nothing of the dragon.

 

The wolves did not come back to their lands, and the villages spoke of their disappearance with relief and mild confusion, wondering how such a large pack of starving wolves simply decided to turn heel and leave their lands. They were not ungrateful, no, but it was still odd. Wolves often remained in one place unless a larger predator or another pack drove them out, but there were no sign of other wolves or even bears. How strange.

 

When he heard these confused mutters and murmurs among the villagers when he accompanied his mother to the marketplace, carrying their bags of sheep wool, Jack kept his grin to himself.

 

It was not the last time he saw the dragon.

 

The dragon did not come by to join him every day. The dragon’s visits were sporadic, often with several weeks gap between visits, sometimes only a few days, and sometimes it would come several days in a row, there was no specific pattern to the dragon’s visits. Jack didn’t mind.

 

The first few times he’d look up and see a pair of glowing deep green eyes looking at him out of the shadows of the forest, he’d start and jolt a few steps back before realizing who it was, but it was not long before he’d simply look up at the sound of a low rumble that made the grass quiver, and only smile.

 

Jack soon discovered that the dragon was in fact male after being unable to contain his curiosity, and he rather crudely and awkwardly asked the dragon if it was a girl or boy, gesturing jerkily with his hands as he fumbled with the question, avoiding asking the question directly at first. The dragon gave him a deadpan look and twitched its tail back and forth as Jack stumbled in his wording, and the dragon shook its head with an amused chuff when Jack asked if it was a girl.

 

He was simply grateful that he didn’t ask the dragon to.. well, _show_ him and ‘prove’ that he was male. While he was fascinated by the dragon and his apparent friendliness (how unusual. Wasn’t that unusual? He’d never heard of a dragon being so amiable with a human before), Jack wasn’t curious enough nor stupid enough to ask a giant beast that could get rather offended at such a personal question. Though, that didn’t mean he couldn’t tease the dragon a little at the almost disgruntled expression the dragon had on its long, scaly face.

 

“At least I didn’t ask you to lift your leg, right?” Jack grinned, snickering softly under his breath. “I mean, I _considered_ it, but I thought that it’d be kinda rude and intrusive, y’know.”

 

He yelped when a tail fin whacked him lightly in the face, hearing a squawk from the dragon, strangled and high-pitched. As if he was _embarrassed_.

 

Well, despite the little bit of stinging pain in his face and on his nose, Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that. Though he did give the dragon a sharp pat at his side for smacking him in the face, light and harmless as it was, which earned him a grunt and what Jack _swore_ was a roll of the eyes. His jaw dropped a little at the very distinct roll of deep green eyes, a movement that seemed so **_human_** , and the low growls that sounded like grumbles.

 

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Are you _sassing_ me?”

 

The dragon sniffed primly and looked pointedly away.

 

He pointed at the dragon, “Hey, _hey!_ Don’t you look away from me! I know you’re sassing me, and that is not proper dragon behavior!”

 

The dragon gave him a half-lidded stare. There was an upward curl of his draconic mouth, revealing some of his sharp ivory teeth in a gummy grin.

 

(Another movement so distinctly _human_.)

 

Laughter bubbling in his chest, Jack did not relent in his very loud scolding of the rather amused looking dragon and rested his hands on his hips as he puffed his chest out. He spoke with a stern voice, much like a father would do with a son who’d wandered off, gotten himself in trouble and come home covered in dirt and bruises. “You will show some respect! No more of this attitude, young dragon.”

 

The dragon tilted his head at him and made a curious warbling noise, green eyes narrowing as a series of chuffs slid past his teeth. Jack quickly realized that the dragon was **snickering** at him, challenging him with an expression that could only say, “ _Is that so?_ ”

 

The sheep looked up and stared dully at their shepherd as he chased after a chuffing dragon several times his size, shouting after him to behave as proper young dragons should and waving his staff around as if to make his point.

 

Jack quickly came to look forward to the time he spent with the dragon.

 

He had no name for the dragon, and though he considered several different names to call him by, there were simply none that he felt quite fit, though he couldn’t explain it. He didn’t feel as if he had the right to name a creature that was so clearly intelligent and probably had a name of his own, the dragon probably already had a name, though chances of him being able to pronounce the name were small. He didn’t speak Dragonese, after all.

 

Moreover, giving a name to a wild animal that would not and did not stay with him all the time would give a false sense of permanence to the creature’s presence. Giving the dragon a name reminded him too much of a foolish hunter trying to name a bear or a wolf, trying to claim ownership to an animal too wild and driven by instinct to ever be tamed. No, Jack did not want to own the dragon, and names felt too much like ownership, like how one would name a dog. 

And so, Jack did not give the dragon a name, though he asked once, on a rather sunny spring morning, if the dragon had one.

 

The dragon stared at him with those deep, unreadable green eyes, and nodded once.

 

Jack just smiled and didn’t press further.

 

He did not ask about the dragon’s name again.

 

Though the dragon was not always around, his presence was one that Jack was eager to be in when the days were overcast, cloudy, full of rain or no, when the sun was beaming through the trees, or obscured partly by the clouds. The dragon only came during the day, and Jack supposed that was for the better, though he knew how vulnerable the dragon was in the daytime, but the dragon could easily hide in the woods or fly away, and the villagers did not come to these parts often. The dragon would be safe as long as he didn’t wander too close to the village center or the next closest farm or home. The dragon never even followed him home, and Jack was grateful for that, preferring to find the dragon in daylight instead of not. 

 

Gods know how the villagers would react if they were to see a large, dark and powerful looking winged beast flying across the night skies, above their small village when they were at their most vulnerable.

 

They would hunt down the dragon and take his hide for their own. They would not care to see the sheer intelligence and humor in his eyes that Jack saw every time he spent his afternoons and mornings with the dragon. They would not see how the sunlight reflected off of the smooth auburn scales, nor the kind curl of his mouth. They would see teeth, claws, horns, and wings, and that would be all they would care to see. So, Jack was more than content to only see the dragon during the day, and he did not speak of the dragon to anyone else, not to his sister, and most certainly not to his mother.

 

He alone would treasure the dragon’s presence during those overcast days.

 

Jack was reluctant to admit to even himself that, though he was not ungrateful for everything his mother provided him and his sister, he and Emma already shared so much with each other, and he just wanted these moments with the dragon, fleeting and rare as they could be, to just be _his_.

 

Just this once, he wanted something to be his and his alone, and Jack knew how selfish that was.

 

When the dragon was there, the dragon would find a patch of sunlight during those cloudy days or shade underneath the high canopies of the trees when the sun was out and bright and watch as Jack made sure that the sheep did not wander off, talking to them as if they could understand their human shepherd. It made the dragon huff quietly with laughter and his green eyes would flicker with amusement as Jack scolded the sheep when one tried to run off to a pasture that was not their own. Once Jack was sure that they would not wander off, he would plop down next to the dragon and talk to him.

 

He talked to the dragon about all sorts of things. Important things, things that were not important, silly things, little tales, and small jokes, all these he would say to the dragon without expecting any kind of response in return. He spoke of how he and Emma had found a small reservoir of water further in the woods that his sister loved to swim in when the days were hot. The water was shallow, only deep enough for Jack to stand upright with his feet touching flat against the bottom of the pond, and so his sister wasn’t afraid of swimming in it. He spoke of the hollow in the tree that he would tell stories of ghosts to the village children during the harvest season, when the branches of the trees were bare and the ground was covered in dead leaves.

 

Jack spoke of his mother and how she would ruffle his hair when she was pleased with a job well done. He showed how she did it to the dragon, and the dragon made a curious little noise deep in his throat, blinking at him, and Jack laughed.

 

He spoke of the pinched face she made when he came home with his sister, the both of them covered in dirt and filth, making an impression of her face. He pursed his lips, drew his brows together, crossed his arms and jutted his jaw out as he spoke in a high falsetto, an impression of his mother’s voice (woefully inaccurate, his mother’s voice was low and soothing and perfect for telling him and his sister’s stories in the dark under the light of the lantern).

 

The dragon lowered his head to the ground and covered his face with his front claws, and the dragon began to tremble. Jack felt the vibrations against his back. The dragon was chuffing with laughter.

 

Jack laughed with him.

 

Jack spoke most often of his sister and his mother, but he occasionally spoke of the other children in the village who laughed at his tricks and listened to him attentively when he told stories, the same stories his mother would tell him when he was a young boy. He showed the dragon the same antlers he’d worn when he was telling the children a ghost story of the great hunt and the sacred stag of the painted warriors far to the west. The dragon had sniffed at it and blinked, and then gave an interested croon. The young man smiled and told the dragon the story, and the dragon listened. 

 

He told the dragon more and more of the tales his own mother once told him, and he’d stand to his feet, make his voice boom and gestured with his hands to show great feats of heroism, glory, of clever tricksters, and conniving villains. And the dragon would listen, he would always listen, and he would never get bored. His draconic mouth would curl and he would trill, warble, and croon, urging Jack to continue.

 

What a dragon would do with tales told by a human, Jack didn’t know, but he cared little.

 

He simply enjoyed having the dragon listen to him as he told him all of his favorite stories.

 

Sometimes, the moments rare and fleeting, Jack would quiet and then speak of his father. Not for very long, only short sentences of the man’s former presence, and Jack told the dragon briefly about how he’d died when a cold that’d gone out of control took hold of him and took him away. Then, he would plaster on a smile full of false cheer and change the subject, as if he’d never spoken of his father in the first place. The dragon only looked at him with eyes that could pierce through his soul, but the dragon gave no noise or indication for him to continue talking about his father. So, he didn’t. Not until several visits later. 

 

The first time he’d ever truly spoken to the dragon of his father beyond little bits and pieces of information was when Jack was telling him the story of the man in the moon and the kingdom beyond the stars. He told the dragon that his mother hadn’t told him that particular story, but his father.

 

The smile fell off of Jack’s lips and the light in his brown eyes dimmed. He rubbed at the back of his neck and gave a mirthless smile, faint and ghostly.

 

“It... it was my father’s favorite story,” he said in a murmur. He looked down at his bare feet and toed at a white flower. “He used to tell me that story all the time.”

 

Jack felt eyes staring at him and he looked up, meeting a pair of vivid green. The dragon lifted his head and the lines around his eyes seemed to soften. The dragon rumbled a little trill in his throat and he lowered his head, giving a small nudge to Jack’s shoulder. The corner of Jack’s mouth quirked upwards even as his eyes stung a little. He blinked it out.

 

“..He told me it the first time when we were sitting on the roof of my house, it was a clear night, not a cloud in the sky, I must’ve been about five or six years old at the time, before Emma was born, and then he told me Manny’s story,” Jack stared thoughtfully into nothing and raised a hand to press against the dragon’s jaw, giving it a light rub. He turned and gave the dragon a faint smile, and he felt a rumble underneath his fingers.

 

“..Mom always said that he wasn’t the most talkative guy, that he barely spoke a word when she first met him. He was so quiet that mom actually thought that he _couldn’t_ speak at first. Apparently he gave her a real fright when he spoke for the first time.” He gave of small huff of laughter, faint grin on his lips spreading. At the memory of his mother saying those exact words to him several months after his father died, Jack’s faint grin turned sad as he remembered the tired lines around his mother’s grey eyes when she told him that story. She’d been tending to their garden and he was helping her, crouched to the ground and patting down the soil around the planted seeds. They hadn’t spoken about his father since his death, not until that day.

 

“Dad was kinda like that, all quiet and stuff,” he murmured, absentmindedly stroking at the dragon’s jaw. “When he _did_ talk, he was really soft-spoken, but he always loved telling that story about Manny.”

 

He paused and gave a soft snort of laughter.

 

“Mom gave me and Dad a ripping when she found us on the roof one night, but I think it was pretty worth it.” The smile spread on his lips and his brown eyes shimmered. The dragon looked at him, not making a sound.

 

Jack’s fingers gripped at the dragon’s jaw, his fingertips pressing harder into the scales without meaning to, and yet the dragon did not move an inch. He only looked at the human, unblinking and unreadable.

 

“...Watching the moon with him was one of my favorite things to do,” He whispered. The dragon said nothing and made no noise.

 

Jack’s breath shook and he closed his stinging eyes shut.

 

“..Emma was a really fussy baby, it was always a nightmare trying to get her to go to sleep. She’d just wail and scream when mom would try to put her to bed, and I’d get the brunt of it because we sleep in the same room.” He let out a huff of laughter and opened his eyes again. His eyes were watery. The dragon could smell the salt in the air.

 

“Nothing my mom did would put her to sleep, not at night. I think Emma was scared of the dark even then, she still kinda is even now,” he grinned. It faded into a sad smile and his eyes lowered to the ground.

 

“Then that’s when my dad would step in. He’d, just. Put her in his arms and rock her to sleep, humming some song under his breath or telling her about the man in the moon. In minutes, she’d be asleep and he’d just lay down and sleep on the floor next to her crib, then mom would join him. Sometimes, I’d sleep on the floor with him. I think it helped Emma feel safe, having him there. Mom... “

 

Jack curled his legs in close to his chest and he gripped the staff tight in his hand, his knuckles a stark white from his grip on the wood.

 

“..Mom told me that he did the same for me, too. That he could get me to fall asleep just by being there when she couldn’t get me to sleep at night. She called him our nightlight.”

 

He laughed and the sound felt strangled and choked in his throat, and he clutched at his chest tightly as it left. His eyes felt hot and his cheeks wet and sticky. He felt a rumbling against his back and a shifting of muscles. Jack shut his eyes tight and breathed heavily through his nose, finding it more difficult than usual, and drew his hand away from the dragon’s snout to rub at his eyes roughly. Forcing his eyes open, more tears slid out and the staff fell to the ground with a clatter as he gripped his knees.

 

He hadn’t cried about his father ever since his death. Not since they buried him.

 

His mother... she’d cried so much. She thought he couldn’t hear her, but he did. He heard her when he was trying to ease Emma to bed days after they’d buried him. His sister was being fussy again, confused and irritated because she couldn’t understand why her father, with his cool, thin and nimble fingers that always stroked her hair as she fell asleep, wasn’t there, why he wouldn’t tuck her in at night, and why Jack and their mother wouldn’t answer her when she asked them where their father was.

 

Emma, still only a toddler then, confused, angry and upset, had screamed her little lungs out, “ _I want daddy!_ ”

 

Jack could only apologize as he tried not to cry, when he heard a sharp intake through the walls, in the next door over. She’d tried to hide it, but there was no mistaking the redness in his mother’s eyes when she brushed his bangs out of his eyes once he’d gotten Emma to calm down and fall asleep out of pure exhaustion, smiled at him, and told him to get some sleep.

 

He wouldn’t let himself cry anymore after that. He couldn’t.

 

No pain he felt could come close in comparison to his mother’s.

 

Jack wouldn’t let himself cry about it anymore and steeled himself only to make his sister and his mother happy, to make them laugh, make them smile. And he hadn’t talked to anyone about his father ever since. Not even his mother or his sister. He couldn’t bring himself to.

 

And here he was.

 

Crying in front of a dragon.

 

He was so pathetic.

 

Face buried in his knees, staff left on the ground by his feet and arms wrapped around his legs as his shoulders shook. He breathed harshly into his worn trousers and he dug his fingers into his legs, his eyes clenched shut tight, but unable to stop the tears from coming. They kept coming and coming and coming and Jack could find nothing in him to make it _stop_.

 

Faintly, Jack heard a low rumble, a whine-like noise, and felt it vibrate against his back. He felt warm breath against his ear, and then it was gone.

 

Muscles shifted against him and when Jack finally forced his eyes open, cracked to slits to see what was in front of him, he found himself encased in darkness. Starting, Jack blinked his watery, stinging eyes and looked up. Slits of sunlight bore through the darkness and from their reflection, Jack found auburn red scales.

 

The dragon raised his head and observed his surroundings. He saw nothing in the distance, he heard nothing, and he closed his wing further around the brown haired human. The sheep grazed at the grass and bleated softly, and there was no sign of any human wandering towards them. The dragon lowered his head to the ground and his green eyes fell on the unfolded wing, spread around Jack, shielding him from the sunlight and from sight.

 

Jack stared into the darkness and a watery laugh escaped him like a cough, making his throat and chest hurt. He smiled through the darkness and shut his eyes and gave a shuddering breath.

 

The dragon’s eyes opened wide when he felt the human curl against his side, clutching at his scales as he shook. His ears twitched at the sound of sobbing and sharp, stuttering breaths, and the dragon let out a small whine deep in his chest. The dragon curled into himself and draped his tail in front of his wing, and Jack was enclosed in complete and utter darkness.

 

He didn’t mind.

 

This time, he liked the darkness.

 

He liked being able to feel those hard but warm and smooth scales, and being able to hear and **feel** the dragon’s heartbeat in the darkness.

 

Once the dragon no longer felt any trembling against his side and heard no more sharp breaths or sobs, the dragon slowly lifted his wing, and Jack blinked and scrunched his face at the sudden light. He groaned and rubbed at his reddened eyes, then gave a grunt as he stretched out his legs, working out the kinks in his knees. Sniffling once, Jack gave a slow, long exhale and ran both of his hands through his hair. With the back of his hand, he gave one last rub of his eyes and looked up at the dragon, who was staring back down at him. The lines around the dragon’s eyes were crinkled in concern and the dragon let out a small whine, lowering his head towards Jack.

 

On shaky legs, Jack stood up and picked up his staff. He leaned forward against it and smiled at the dragon. His eyes red around the eyelids and his voice hoarse, Jack raised a hand and rubbed at the dragon’s snout.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

 

The dragon crooned and pressed his snout against his forehead gently. The dragon closed his green eyes and Jack closed his.

 

_I wish you could’ve met him, Dad_ , Jack thought. _You would’ve loved him_.

 

A final tear slid down his nose and Jack’s smile widened at the huff of warm breath against his forehead.

 

Boy and dragon sat in silence for several more hours, listening to the sound of birds singing to each other, the sheep bleating to each other, and the wind rustling the trees. Orange colored the sky and Jack stood, using his staff to push himself up, and knew he had to return home before night fell.

 

The redness had faded from his eyes and would be gone by the time he returned home with the sheep, and though he was tired, he felt soothed. Less weighed down. Like a breath that’d he’d been holding for a minute too long had finally been released and set free. He felt better.

 

The dragon stirred and raised to stand on his four legs, standing tall and high above Jack, and gave him a warble, tilting his head down at him. Jack gave a small huff of laughter, narrowed his eyes playfully, and cocked his head back up at the dragon in return.

 

Perhaps all he needed was to just talk to someone about it.

 

To finally admit to someone else and himself how much he missed his father, and how dearly he wished he could have him back. How much he wanted his entire family with him, to see them all smiling, laughing, to just see them happy and **_together_**.

 

But his father was dead. And he wasn’t coming back.

 

Jack knew that. He _knew_ that. And he couldn’t let himself be sad or distraught about it anymore. He couldn’t let himself cry, and especially not in front of his mother or his sister.

 

However, it seemed that a cry was exactly what he needed.

 

Though the dragon could not embrace him as a human could, nor speak to him in a gentle voice as a human could, the dragon still held him, kept him safe, kept him warm, and let him cry. With no judgement, and no jeering.

 

The dragon simply let him be.

 

Jack didn’t need the dragon to speak back to him, though he wished he could sometimes. All he needed was the dragon being there.

 

The dragon had to leave now, Jack knew. He could tell by how the dragon’s green eyes scanned over the horizon beyond the trees, towards the peaks of the mountains, how his wings twitched with anticipation, though Jack had the feeling that the dragon was trying to disguise it.

 

His grin wry and fond, he laughed and gave a shake of his head. He took a couple steps back and heard a warble of confusion and curiosity.

 

“All right, all right, I’ll let you go now. You can go home.”

 

The dragon narrowed his eyes at him and huffed through his nose.

 

Jack rolled his eyes and laughed, shaking his head again.

 

“I’ll be fine! Don’t be such a worrywort, it’s unbecoming of a dragon of your stature.”

 

The dragon’s lips curled and he gave a sniff of derision, shaking his head. Jack only laughed harder.

 

Before the dragon could spread his wings to their full span and size, Jack rushed forward to wrap his arms around the dragon’s neck in a firm embrace. The dragon’s eyes widened and blinked rapidly, and Jack heard a startled noise deep in the dragon’s throat, but he didn’t care. He’d given the dragon his thanks earlier, but words were not enough. Words could never be enough. _This_ wasn’t even enough.

 

But it would have to do.

 

After a beat of remaining perfectly still, the dragon’s eyes closed and he relaxed. With a purr-like noise rumbling deep in his chest, the dragon gently rested his large head on top of Jack’s shoulder. The weight was a comfortable one. Jack smiled into the dragon’s neck.

 

This would have to be enough, for now.

 

Feeling lighter than ever, Jack drew his arms back from the dragon’s neck just as the dragon lifted his head up, and he took a couple steps back, hands tucked behind him as he grinned up at the dragon.

 

“Guess this is it for today, huh?” He murmured, his grin softening. The dragon gave a reluctant rumble of affirmation.

 

Jack raised a hand to scratch at his cheek. “You’re gonna come back, right?”

 

The dragon blinked at him once and then huffed through his nose. And then he nodded, giving a warm warble. Jack’s grin widened.

 

“Then I’ll be seeing you around.”

 

The dragon stared at him and Jack was struck by just how _deep_ those green eyes were, so full of intelligence and feeling, and not for the first time, wished he could talk to the dragon like he wanted and understood what he said.

 

Jack gave a parting nod to the dragon and his hair whipped about his face and his eyes when the dragon’s wings spread, opened, and beat hard to lift the dragon above the ground. With a final rumble that echoed through the valley, the dragon flew away and disappeared beyond the trees.

 

He watched as the auburn colored beast disappeared and then turned to lead the sheep back to their paddock. He sat down with his mother and his sister for dinner, talked about his day, left out any details about the dragon, and went to sleep with his sister curled against him. As his sister slept, Jack stared at the moon and thought of his father’s laugh, so quiet and bell-like, as he told the story of the Man in the Moon to his young sister and himself. He thought of his sister’s hazel eyes, bright and gleaming as their father spoke of Manny’s stories and the great beasts beyond the wilds, and smiled.

 

That night, as he closed his eyes and listened to his sister’s even breathing, Jack decided that the next time the dragon returned to the valley, he’d introduce Emma to the dragon.

 

\---

 

Calloused and scarred fingers brushed against his forehead and he closed his eyes, remembering that hand rubbing against his skin, and smiled. His other hand absently stroked at the dark scales of his sleeping companion, and he let his fingers fall away from his skin and his head fell back against Toothless’ side. He heard his best friend’s even breathing and he gave a slow inhale and exhale. The fire crackled beside them as it began to die, and the waves sloshed against the shore, cracking and breaking on the rock.

 

Green eyes cracked open and he looked up at the bright stars scattered across the sky.

 

He whispered to them, “You’re welcome, Jack.”

 

Smiling, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jfc this was a behemoth of a chapter to write, but as the tags say, this puppy is a slow burn. hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack introduces the dragon to his sister, Emma, and as time goes on, the stronger their bond of friendship becomes. Soon, Jack can no longer deny the importance of the dragon's friendship to him.

 

When Emma met the dragon for the first time, she screamed.

 

_Guess I should’ve expected that_ , Jack thought as he pleaded with his panicked sister to calm down while also trying to set the startled and frightened dragon at ease at the same time.

 

Maybe he really shouldn’t have expected his sister to be ecstatic at the sight of a creature that could make the strongest and bravest of men quiver in their boots when looking into those glowing eyes, full of power and sheer danger, but he was still allowed to be hopeful, all right!

 

Emma knew that something was unusual was going on with her brother. She’d known ever since she found him in standing in the middle of the forest that day they played hide and seek, she saw it in the way his brown eyes would drift into a place she could not go in the middle of a meal or when they sat together while watching the sheep. His behavior only grew stranger in early spring, when it was still wet and rainy; he would come home from the pastures late in the afternoon, just as the sun was setting. Not every day, but enough for Emma to find it strange, and even more strange was the way he would rest his chin in in his palm and look out the window with a strange, almost _wistful_ smile on his lips.

 

There’d been an evening when he’d come home with light red rims on his eyelids but a bright smile on his lips, and more than ever Emma wished that he would just trust her and tell her where he went after mother sent him off with the sheep.

 

Jack told her almost everything, why would he not tell her this? Whatever this was. It hurt, a little.

 

Did he really not trust her at all?

 

Emma couldn’t help but wonder as she sewed, sitting next to her mother while they worked together, and a frown settled on her lips. She knew that if she pushed the issue, it would only make him more reluctant to tell her what he was hiding; she knew her brother too well. He was stubborn and liked to dangle things in front of her when he was feeling particularly devious. Many a night were spent with Jack telling her a story and leaving her hanging, her breath held, as she waited for him to tell her how the story ended. The more she begged for him to tell her, the more he would tease her and keep it from her.

 

A grin stretching on her lips at the thought, she gave a soft snort to herself and shook her head, continuing her needlework.

 

No, she would wait, and hopefully he would tell her what he was hiding.

 

She hoped it wasn’t a girl or a boy her brother was getting all stupid for. Although, that _would_ explain some of his weird behavior, like the dopey smile she would see on his face sometimes. Her nose crinkled at the thought and her mother raised an eyebrow in amusement at the odd look on her daughter’s face. 

 

Eugh, _gross_.

 

She didn’t have to wait much longer.

 

Emma soon found herself being brought along with her brother to watch over the sheep, his brown eyes practically shimmering with a nervous sense of excitement and wide grin twitching on his lips. He’d already been watching over the sheep for about an hour or so when he’d suddenly come running home and startled Emma when he poked his head through the window of their room.

 

“Wanna come watch the sheep with me?” He asked. His grin was so wide it felt as if his face was about to split in two and he didn’t care at all. “There’s something I want to show you.”

 

Watching the sheep, who only ate grass, pooped, bleated at them, and sometimes did something that made Jack cover her eyes for whatever dumb reason, was not Emma’s idea of a fun time with her brother, but by the way his eyes flickered in excitement, she knew that it had to be something else. Besides, even though sheep were boring to watch, Jack loved having company and someone to joke around with while making sure the sheep didn’t wander off. Emma would never say no to spending time with her brother.

 

She set down her needles and her yarn, and Jack helped her get through the window before he led her back to the pasture.

 

Jack led the sheep along with him with his staff, making sure they herded around him closely as he held Emma’s hand and led her towards the edge of the woods. Her brows furrowed in confusion as they got closer and closer, the shadows of the trees growing bigger and dreary on this cool summer day.

 

She looked up at her brother with a frown and a dry expression, “Jack, it’s just the woods. We play in here all the time. I thought you were going to show me something.”

 

His grin was unwavering. “I am! I know it doesn’t seem like much right now, but just trust me, I’ll be showing you something, and it’s going to be amazing.”

 

Gods, he hoped she liked him.

 

He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Emma didn’t like him, or if he didn’t like his sister.

 

Emma wasn’t convinced. “I don’t see anything. If this is some kind of joke, Jack, it isn’t funny.” 

 

If this was just some kind of ruse to make her think that he was going to show her something amazing, something that he’s been hiding from her for months now, it wasn’t a very funny joke. The thought made her chest clench tightly. His smile finally wavered and his brow furrowed, and Jack quickly shook his head. He let go of her hand and he lowered down to his knees so that he could be at her eye level. Raising a hand to rest on her shoulder, he raised his eyebrows encouragingly and a softer grin spread on his lips.

 

“Hey, no. This isn’t a trick or a joke, okay?” He said softly, the unusual tenderness to his tone causing her to look up at him. Her gaze was still suspicious and her brows were furrowed, but her expression wasn’t as upset as it’d been a moment ago. His grin spread a little wider.

 

It was difficult for it not to stretch across the entirety of his face when he heard the tell-tale rustling in the leaves above him and the sensation of being watched. A normal person would be unnerved by such a feeling, but Jack was not frightened. He knew exactly who it was. He was waiting.

 

“I promise you, I’m not joking around, not this time.” His grin softening, he gave a little ruffle of her hair, grin spreading at the little giggle she gave and the bat of her hands at his. With a chuckle, he drew his hand away. “Just trust me, all right?”

 

The upset and suspicious expression now gone, Emma smiled up at her brother and gave a thoughtful hum. “I guess I’ll trust you _just_ this once.”

 

Jack smirked and Emma grinned back up at him. Brother and sister shared a laugh together and Jack finally drew his hand away from his sister and stood up. He looked up at the trees, saw a pair of leaves blinking down at him, and took in a deep, slow breath, closing his eyes. He opened them again, and looked over his shoulder to grin down at the now very curious Emma looking up at him.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the sheep still grazing in the pasture and heard the rustle of the branches.

 

“Ready?” He whispered.

 

Smile wide on her face, Emma nodded. “Ready.”

 

He gave her a toothy smile and turned his head to look up at the treetops. Emma followed his gaze and looked up at the trees, squinting her eyes and furrowing her brows. What was he looking at?

 

Jack took a few steps closer into the small clearing in the woods, the trees surrounding them in a circle, the shadows between the trees more evident and thicker than ever, and Emma could not help but feel a little unnerved.

 

She watched as her brother parted his lips and said, loud and clear; “You can come out, now. She’s ready to meet you.”

 

So, it _was_ a person.

 

Emma’s nose scrunched at the revelation.

 

Jack really _was_ introducing her to some girl or boy he was, as her mother would say, ‘twitterpatted’ with, and she had to resist the urge to groan loudly and just start walking home, not interested in whoever this mysterious person Jack wanted her to meet was. But why would they live in the forest...? Emma didn’t know anyone who actually lived in the woods besides some hunters, and she could not help but find that odd. It perked her interest and curiosity once again, and she contented herself to simply wait and watch.

 

Jack received no verbal answer back, and Emma was beginning to wonder if Jack really was playing some sort of trick on her--

 

When she heard a rumbling in the earth.

 

A sound that make the trees shudder and the leaves above her quake and fall against her shoulders. It made her bones shiver and her breath catch.

 

Then, she felt something walking along the ground, and saw something shift in the shadows. Something large, even larger than a brown bear.

 

Something that had to be larger than even the most dangerous animal that roamed about these woods.

 

Hands shaking, she rushed towards her brother and grabbed at his arm. Emma felt him jolt underneath her sudden grip, half-hiding behind his back and muttering her pleas for them to leave and go home. She was left frustrated and confused when he simply pat at her shoulder and her head, whispering for her to be calm, that she was perfectly safe, that there was nothing to worry about, and his smile twitched on his lips once more as he watched the great shape of a figure move towards them and out of the shadows.

 

She leaned over from behind him and glanced at the opening between two large oak trees.

 

A great auburn snout, covered in scales, slowly left the shadows and Emma saw a pair of glowing, deep green eyes blink out of the darkness.

 

Her mouth parted and her jaw dropped as she watched the beast slowly walk out of the shadows of the trees and revealed itself in its entirety.

 

Jack’s grin was so wide that it was beginning to hurt.

 

“Long time no see, huh?”

 

The dragon’s lips curled upwards and bobbed his head twice, warbling low and warm.

 

Emma was left utterly speechless.

 

Jack laughed softly and took a step to the side. “Okay, big guy, this is someone really important to me, so be nice, all right?”

 

A blink of glowing green and a trill was his response.

 

Huffing with laughter, Jack smiled at the dragon. “Thought so. Good dragon, nice gentlemanly dragon.”

 

Said dragon gave a small snort and Emma could only gape silently at the beast she’d only read about in books and heard in the stories Jack and her mother would tell her. A beast some great hunters gloated about having killed and taken their skin, rumored to decimated hundreds of villages.

 

And her brother was talking to one as if it were another person. Not a monster that could rip his throat out in a single bite.

 

Jack took another step to the side and grinned down at his sister, his brown eyes flickering between the dragon and Emma. Suddenly made anxious by the wide-eyed expression on his sister’s face as she stared up at the dragon, Jack licked his lips and gave a laugh out of nervousness and managed a crooked grin. He rested a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Emma, this is who I wanted you to meet.”

 

He raised a hand up to gesture towards the dragon and turned to look at him, the grin softening and becoming more genuine.

 

“This is my friend, the dragon.”

 

Something he couldn’t fathom flickered in the dragon’s green eyes and the dragon’s gaze shifted towards the young girl. The lines around his eyes softened and he tilted his head, his ears twitching in attention and curiosity.

 

Emma gave a sharp intake when those inhuman green eyes set on her and she clutched her brother’s arm so tightly that she was sure her fingers were digging into his skin.

 

The dragon blinked and gave a little warble, parting his mouth to curl his lips in draconic attempt at a welcoming smile.

 

Emma met those deep green eyes.

 

And then Emma screamed.

 

Like a clash of thunder, her sudden scream echoed through the clearing and in between the trees, making the branches shudder in sudden fright and alarm. Another noise, just as loud, like a tempest, joined her scream as the dragon’s eyes widened at the sharp noise, his ears twitching madly and pressing against his skull as it pierced through his ear drums. The dragon’s wings twitched and unfolded slightly in alarm and he gave a strangled sounding half-roar, his green eyes wild and flickering madly between the young girl and her brother. Making noises that could only be whimpers of distress and fright, the dragon backed up several steps, his tail lashing against a large oak tree.

 

Jolting away from her at the sudden scream, Jack flinched at the noises clattering in the air and wide brown eyes darted from his sister to the dragon, both frightened, and he knew that this was not going to end well unless he did something quick to calm them both down.

 

Emma’s fright was understandable. He should’ve known she’d be terrified; he was, too, when he met the dragon for the first time, before he learned just how wrong everyone was about them and still thought that even after freeing the dragon from the trap net, it would turn on him and sink its teeth into his flesh and rip it off the bone.

 

But after knowing the dragon for as long as he has by now, he’d forgotten that fear.

 

Now, he just wants Emma to know that she doesn’t have to be scared of the dragon. He wants her to _know_.

 

And that meant he had to get his now thrashing sister, who kept trying to tug at his arm to get them both to run, to calm down and realize that the dragon wouldn’t hurt her or him, before he could help her to know just as much as he does.

 

“Emma, EMMA! _Calm down!_ ” Managing to wrestle his arm out of her tight grip, he wrapped it around her shoulders to bring her closer, while also trying to keep her steady and make her stop thrashing, agitated and anxious as she was to run run run and get _away_. Emma looked at her brother in utter disbelief when he raised the other hand towards the dragon and looked towards it, making shushing noises in attempt to calm down the startled dragon who was breathing heavily and making nervous warbles.

 

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, big guy, it’s okay! She’s--she’s just a little spooked, she’ll be okay!” Jack gave the dragon a reassuring smile, panting for breath and his voice slightly hoarse from having to yell so loudly.

 

Emma’s hazel eyes flickered between her brother and the dragon in utter disbelief, and she whispered “What are you _doing_ , Jack?!” harshly under her breath when he absolutely refused to run. He didn’t answer her.

 

Her jaw dropped and she went still against her brother when the dragon stopped moving and breathed heavily, looking at her brother with its wide green eyes that were beginning to look much less wild than they’d been seconds ago. The dragon’s wings were still twitching, but his tail stopped thrashing against the tree and settled on the ground. The dragon stood in one place. His green eyes flickered between the two siblings, landing on the elder one and his rapid, panicked breathing came to more even, regular pattern. Exhaling in relief, a grin spread on Jack’s lips and a grateful expression formed on his face, thankful that the dragon calmed down so quickly and was so aware of how much he spooked Emma, though he didn’t actively mean to.

 

The dragon settled into a sitting position and lowered his head, watching the pair of siblings quietly and carefully, and feeling satisfied with having kept the dragon calm and now relaxed, Jack turned to his sister. She was still looking at him in utter disbelief and slight fear. The grin on his face wavered a little.

 

“Um,” he said. He gave his sister a nervous, sheepish grin and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Surprise?”

 

Emma narrowed her eyes at her brother and the dragon rolled his eyes and covered his face with his claws.

 

“‘ _Surprise_ ’?” She croaked. “Jack, you _do_ realize that’s a **dragon** , right?”

 

Said dragon’s ears perked at that and he peeked at the girl from between his claws.

 

Jack just grinned at her in response and gave a small laugh, much to her mounting frustration. “I am well aware that he’s a dragon, that’s why I wanted you to meet him in the first place. Isn’t it amazing!?”

 

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

 

“ _Amazing?_ Jack, are you out of your **mind!?** ” She shouted, making her brother jump back. “That--That--! It could kill you! I know you can be really stupid sometimes--”

 

“Whoa, whoa, I resent that comment,” Jack frowned.

 

A huff and a low rumble.

 

Jack turned around and glared at the dragon, “You too!? Don’t agree with her!”

 

She carried on like she hadn’t even heard him (was he actually _talking_ to the dragon? All right, that’s it. Her brother officially lost his mind).

 

“--But this is probably the stupidest of them all! Jack! We need to _go_ \--”

 

Realizing how south this was going and that it would only get worse if he didn’t do something to convince Emma that the dragon wasn’t going to hurt either of them, Jack grasped her shoulders firmly, stopping her in the midst of trying to run away and lowered himself down to his knees. The dragon remained still and quiet but Emma still looked between the dragon and her brother frantically. She tried to wrench herself out of his grip, but his hold was too tight and firm.

 

“Emma! Will you just--!?” He sucked in a sharp breath and forced down his frustration to give his sister a calm but serious look. “Emma, please, please calm down. He’s not going to hurt you, and he’s not going to hurt me.”

 

His eyebrows thickened as he furrowed them together in pleading. “Please. Just trust me, Emma.”

 

She quieted and stopped struggling. She looked between her brother and his earnest brown eyes, the furrow of his brows, and the increasingly nervous expression on his face, desperate for her to understand and believe in him, and the dragon that glanced at her, and she was struck by how meek it was. It didn’t move, it didn’t stir, it didn’t make a noise. It only looked at her.

 

Emma looked back at her brother. His brows furrowed further together and his hands squeezed at her shoulders. She’d never seen him look so pleading before.

 

_Believe in me_ , his eyes said.

 

Slowly, she let out a sigh and relaxed underneath her brother’s hands.

 

_I hope I don’t regret this_ , she thought.

 

Pursing her lips, she lifted her eyes to her brother’s, and with her eyebrows set, she gave a single nod.

 

His face lit up in an instant and a grin was back on his lips. Jack shot the dragon his wide, toothy grin and then looked back at his sister. Lines around his eyes relaxing, he gave his sister a soft grin and another light squeeze of her shoulders. She gave him a small, hesitant smile in return. Giving a sigh of relief, Jack let his hands fall away from his shoulders and he stood to full height again, then moved to stand behind Emma. This time, his palms were lightly pressed against her shoulder blades, and he grinned down at her as he gave her a little push forward.

 

Startled, her eyes widened and she quickly turned to look up at a smiling Jack. “Jack! What--”

 

His chuckle and twinkle in his brown eyes kept her at ease. “I’m properly introducing you to the big guy, now. Don’t worry, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, he certainly won’t hurt you.”

 

Emma frowned at him. “Wouldn’t hurt a fly?”

 

He just gave a light shrug of his shoulders. “Sure, he _could_ , heck, he could’ve eaten me so many times by now. But he won’t.” A smile twitched on his lips. “He won’t. And he won’t hurt you. Now--”

 

A hand lightly pushed at her back and Emma took a couple cautious steps forward. Jack only gave her an encouraging smile and nod.

 

“Go say hello.”

 

Swallowing, Emma nodded slowly and her brother went quiet as she took a breath, steeled herself, and then looked at the dragon. His claws hand fallen away from his eyes and he was watching her now, and nothing in his draconic face showed the aggression or blood thirst she’d imagined. The only thing she saw in the great beast’s face was perhaps a cautious curiosity. She took a couple more steps forward, her hands clasped together against her chest and her heart racing in her ears.

 

The dragon simply stared at her, blinking slowly, and did not move. He kept his head low to the ground, just inches from touching the forest floor, and Emma faintly thought that the dragon reminded her of the way farming dogs would approach her, cautious and curious, letting her come to them instead of walking closer to her. The dragon was not making any sudden movements, not even as she took several steps closer to the dragon, and Emma marveled both at how large the dragon was in comparison to her small human body and how little he was compared to the flying beasts she’d always imagined. And his eyes were so green and so wide...

 

Emma could not help but wonder, _is it afraid?_

 

Her shoulder blades relaxed and the lines around her eyes softened, eyes still wide, but not filled with so much fear and caution as before. Quiet, Emma tilted her head at the dragon and took another few steps forward. Jack watched from a distance, remaining in place, and held his breath as Emma reached a hand out.

 

The dragon’s green eyes flickered between her little hand and her face. He didn’t move.

 

Emma looked at the dragon from beneath her bangs as she took a few steps closer, her palm facing outward, and set her jaw. She looked at the dragon cautiously and the dragon blinked back at her.

 

The dragon moved forward and Emma flinched, her eyes clenched shut--

 

And felt hard, but smooth and warm scales against her palm.

 

Slowly, she opened her eyes, finding those deep green ones closed. She felt a warm air puffing against the back of her hand. The dragon breathed through his nostrils, slow and even, and Emma couldn’t help the slight giggle at the tickling sensation.

 

Green eyes slit open and Emma looked at the dragon shyly from beneath her brown bangs, meeting those green eyes and found herself unable to look away. Hesitant, she lightly rubbed her palm against the dragon’s snout, her movements careful and still a bit cautious. She gave a little gasp when she felt the scales vibrate underneath her skin and realized that the dragon was rumbling something like a **purr.** The dragon was _purring_ at her.

 

Those green eyes cracked open further and Emma felt the dragon’s skin shift beneath her palm. His lips curled upwards; he was smiling.

 

Her eyes widened, her mouth parted in shock, and her lips twitched into a wide, toothy smile.

 

Picking up his staff, Jack leaned against it and pressed his cheek against the cool wood, his smile stretched so wide across his face it was almost painful. He didn’t say anything, no quip, no clever comment, no smug raise of the eyebrows. He simply watched as his sister stroked at the dragon’s scales, closing his eyes at the sound of a pleased chuff and his sister’s quiet laughter. His grin softened into a smile.

 

Opening his eyes once more, he walked forward to join Emma and the dragon.

 

\----

 

After the initial shock and fright faded, Emma quickly came to enjoy the dragon’s company just as much as Jack did. 

 

Now, instead of being almost always alone as he watched the sheep in the pasture, he had his sister by his side on his perch on a hill or a boulder, and when they heard the flap of wings or the rumbles between the trees, they hopped off of the boulder or stood up to meet with the dragon. The dragon would slink out of the darkness of the woods and he would purr and croon at Emma when she pet and rubbed at his scales, and his green eyes would flicker towards Jack in attention, twitching as the young man spoke about the on-goings of the village, the tales he would tell the young village children, and Emma would tell the dragon of the blankets and quilts of all shades and colors she made with her mother. The dragon listened attentively, and when the pair of siblings fell asleep against his side, well, he had no problem unfolding a wing to give the sleeping pair some shade, watching over the sheep and growling low when any began to wander off.

 

It was not rare for Jack to come back to Emma and the dragon after gently urging a straying sheep back to the flock, to find his sister reclining against the dragon’s neck and telling the dragon all sorts of embarrassing stories about her brother, or sleeping against an attentive dragon. He would protest loudly against his sister’s accusations, to which Emma would retort, and the siblings would bicker with each other as the dragon looked on and chuffed with laughter.

 

When the dragon was not there, Jack and Emma shared a mutual sense of disappointment, and when the dragon had to leave as the sun was setting, goodbyes were twice as long and twice as difficult.

 

Now that she was no longer afraid of the dragon, Emma was also fascinated by him.

 

She’d asked once how he knew that the dragon was male, raising an eyebrow at him, and with a cough, clearing his throat, Jack flushed and told her that he’d simply asked. Her eyes widened and flickered with amazement and awe.

 

“Can he understand what we’re saying?” She asked, looking up at the dragon and scratching underneath the dragon’s chin, which made him croon happily.

 

Jack smiled and gave a pat to the dragon’s side, getting a grunt in return. “Every single word, from what I can tell. Big guy here’s pretty smart for a dragon.”

 

Eyes half-lidded, the dragon raised his head from the young girl’s hand and huffed a breath into Jack’s face.

 

Spluttering, he ruffled his mussed hair back into place, and gave the dragon a petulant look. “Hey! That was a compliment!”

 

The dragon chuffed at him and then yawned wide, revealing his sharp ivory teeth, and Emma snorted.

 

“‘ _Big guy_ ’? That’s the name you decided to give him?”

 

Glancing over his shoulder to check on the sheep, Jack gave a shrug and plopped down next to her, leaning his head back against the dragon’s side. “It’s not his name, it’s just what I’ve decided to call him.”

 

Her brows furrowed and her rubs against the dragon’s neck were slow and absentminded. “It’s not? What’s his name then?”  


A smile curled on his lips and Jack gave a thoughtful hum. “I dunno.”

 

Emma was left only more confused. “You don’t know? Didn’t you give him a name?”

 

Jack laughed and shook his head. “Nah, you don’t get it; I didn’t give him a name. Why would I a give him a name when he already has one?”

 

Having lowered his head to the ground for a short nap in the patch of shade, a green eye cracked open to look at Jack. A look of slight understanding formed on Emma’s face, though she was still admittedly confused. “Then.. if he does have a name, how would you know what it is?”

 

Running his thumb over the smooth wood, Jack gave her a faint grin and looked at her from beneath his flyaway bang. “I wouldn’t know unless I was suddenly able to speak dragon. ‘Till that happens, though, I’m not gonna give him a name. I don’t wanna take his name away from him since he’s already got one.”

 

Left mostly satisfied with that answer even though she didn’t completely understand, Emma didn’t ask any further about the dragon’s name and the dragon’s gaze flickered towards the mountains to the west, unreadable.

 

Emma could not always join Jack when he was watching over the sheep or when the dragon came, having to stay inside with her mother to help in the garden, sew and knit, or accompany her to the village. It was something she was often huffy about, disappointed, and Jack teased her for it. 

 

She might’ve kicked his shin once for all of his teasing, making him yelp. Just maybe.

 

And the dragon may have chuffed loudly with laughter.

 

Though she could not always be there and the dragon did not always come, the days where Jack had both his sister and the dragon with him at the same time, in the same place, quickly became his favorite days. He liked to think that his sister and the dragon had similar feelings. He knew Emma did, it was obvious in the way she would giggle when the dragon sniffed gently at her forehead and nudged it with his snout, the purrs and the croons he gave when she rubbed and stroked at his scales. The dragon could never give him a verbal answer, but Jack could see. He saw it in how gently the dragon treated his sister, every careful sniff, gentle movement, the unfolding of his wing as he gave them shade when it was too hot.

 

When Emma got a head start as she helped to lead the sheep back home, Jack would occasionally linger and run his fingers along the underside of the dragon’s neck, smiling at how the dragon rumbled and blinked his eyes at him. Then his palm would hold the dragon’s jaw, his forearm twitching only a little from the sheer weight of the winged beast, and Jack would smile at him and press his forehead along the plane of the dragon’s snout.

 

And then he would whisper, “Thank you.”

 

The dragon would stare at him, then close his eyes and give a rumble.

 

Then, they would part ways.

 

One late summer afternoon, the dragon did not come and Emma turned to her brother and asked him, “Why does he only come during the day? We never see him at night. I thought dragons were nocturnal.”

 

Giving a faint grin, Jack shrugged his shoulders helplessly and tapped his heel against the rock in a rhythm. “Your guess is as good as mine. I guess he’s just got places to be during the nighttime. Maybe a nest to get back to.”

 

Emma glanced up at him, carving a curved knot into the little piece of wood she’d found, and wondered. “Do you think he has a family?”

 

His tapping stopped and Jack tilted his head back to look up at the clear blue sky, the smile slipping from his lips. “..Maybe.”

 

Jack wasn’t sure.

 

It wasn’t something he’d ever asked of the dragon before. He hadn’t seen any or heard of any dragons flying through their village. The villagers would’ve been in an uproar if there’d been word of a dragon flying about the skies above them, and Jack hadn’t really stopped to wonder if the dragon had a family he went back to. The dragon _must_ have a family somewhere that he went back to, maybe even a mate and some dragon babies to look after. Surely he did, otherwise why would he leave if he didn’t have somewhere to go back to?

 

He hoped the dragon had a home and a family to go back to. Jack couldn’t bear to think about not having a family or home of his own to come back to when the sun was setting and the day was done. And if the dragon didn’t have that.. 

 

How lonely that must be.

 

Jack didn’t know how to broach the subject with the dragon, and in the end, when the dragon appeared to them again days later, he chose not to ask. He gently told Emma not to ask the dragon either; he told her with a teasing grin that it wouldn’t be polite and hid his frown as his sister stared at him, shrugged and went back to playing jump with the dragon’s long tail.

 

That day, Jack lingered to stay and watch the dragon fly away when the skies were turning pink and orange and not for the first time, wondered where the dragon went when the day was spent.

 

Summer was hottest during the middle point of the season, and not even rolling his trousers high above his knees nor wearing the loosest shirt could help Jack stay cool. Just a step outside would cause sweat to collect on his brow and underneath his collar, and his sister fared little better. Where he once enjoyed spending the days outside with the sheep, he now dreaded the mug of mid-summer mornings and afternoons. The only respite he and his sister received was the shade of the dragon’s wings hovering above them, blocking out the sun. The dragon received appreciative pats on the side and against his neck for his good deeds, to which he trilled happily.

 

When the heat became too much for both human and dragon alike, the odd trio and the little flock of sheep sought cool water. For the sake of the dragon not being seen by unsuspecting villagers, the trio of two humans and a dragon ventured into the woods, the dragon’s large body leading them through the trees, slinking between the spaces of trunks, sniffing at the air for water. When the dragon found it, he would lead the pair of siblings to it, and they would swim, splash at and throw water at each other while the dragon stopped to take a drink, watching the pair of siblings out of the corner of his eye as they laughed and played. Sometimes, the dragon would slide into the large pools of water to cool off and let the pair sit on his back as he slowly swam across a lake or a large pond, nostrils just above the surface of the water huffing out warm air. His draconic smile would be hidden under the water.

 

It was when the dragon brought them to the lake, after making sure no one was there, that Jack saw what the dragon ate for the first time.

 

Emma pulled her skirts up enough above her knees so that she could soak her legs in the cool water and Jack cupped some in his hands and poured it over his face, letting the cool liquid wash through his hair, his neck, and his collar bone. He gave a sigh of relief and turned to see the dragon slowly slinking along the bank of the lake, green eyes unblinking and focused as he stared down at the water.

 

Wiping at his forehead, Jack furrowed his brows and spoke in a raised voice, “Whatcha up to, big guy?”  


The dragon didn’t acknowledge him aside from a glance his way, and now that he’d brought attention to the dragon, Emma looked up and watched him, too. The pair of siblings shared mutual curiosity as the dragon came to a slow stop.

 

He seemed to be watching something in the water, and his muscles and back rippled with tension and he kneaded his claws into the soft bank of the lake. Then, the dragon dove his head underneath the water and Jack jumped, Emma giving a small gasp out of alarm. But the dragon brought his head out of the water soon after, and Jack saw the sliver of sunlight reflecting off of the wriggling fish caught between the dragon’s jaws. The dragon moved away from the shore of the lake and dropped the fish to the ground. They wriggled in a pile and then the dragon took one between his teeth.

 

Emma watched the dragon eat in fascination before Jack covered her eyes with his palms. “Wha--? _Hey!_ Jack, I wanna see!”

 

She bat at his hands and shoved them away, giving a childish scowl at his grin and laugh. He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Hey! I was just looking out for you! I thought that him eating would make you too uncomfortable.”

 

Emma gave him a half-lidded stare. “He’s just eating. Don’t be a wuss.”

 

With a chuckle, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked back at the dragon, whom was enjoying his meal very much. He could hear the dragon rumbling and purring in satisfaction from even this far as he tossed another fish into his mouth. Jack leaned back and shifted his legs to let them soak in the water. He looked at the dragon in fascination.

 

“So that’s what he eats...” he murmured, and Emma looked at him, silently asking for clarification. He gave a faint grin. “I’ve never seen him eat before. I dunno, but he doesn’t seem too keen on eating in front of me or us. I guess he was just hungry today.”

 

Emma stared at him long and hard, brows knitting together in thought. “You’ve... never seen him eat before?”

 

Jack shook his head and Emma drummed her fingers on her knees thoughtfully.

 

“So... Dragons don’t eat deer, cattle or livestock, like they’ve always said?” She asked softly.

 

Blue eyes fell on the dragon as he was finishing his midday meal, licking at his lips and pawing at an itch from behind his ear with his front claw. Quiet, he shook his head again. “No. And we can certainly say that they don’t eat humans, or else we probably wouldn’t be here right now. I guess they just eat fish.”

 

It was both amazing and befuddling to learn just how much everyone’d been wrong about dragons, how all of the stories were based on not-truths or half-truths, how much they’d come to adopt lies as reality. Jack’d heard of how years ago, far to the north and the west where the winter lasted longer and reigned harder, dragons had a reputation for being pests who stole livestock and took hunting game, much like wolves, and were infamous for slaughtering entire villages. Yet this one dragon with such kind green eyes went against all of those stories just by merely existing.

 

Jack couldn’t be sure whether or not this one dragon was the exception to the rest, as he had yet to meet another dragon. But what he was sure about was that all the stories were wrong.

 

This was no blood thirsty beast.

 

The dragon shook off the last of the water dripping around his head, now finished with his meal, blinked and looked towards the siblings. At the look on Jack’s face, lips pursed together in contemplation, the dragon cocked his head and made a curious warbling sound. He moved closer to the siblings and perched behind them, lifting his wing to give them shade.

 

Jack tilted his head back to look up at the dragon and the dragon lowered his head, huffing through his nostrils and Jack grinned. Their noses were only inches apart and those green eyes blinked down at him. Giving a short laugh, Jack raised a hand to rub at the dragon’s nose and the dragon’s eyes closed. Emma giggled and pat at the dragon’s neck when the dragon gave a happy croon and Jack’s smile widened.

 

No. This was his friend.

 

\---

Emma was the first to notice the scar on the dragon’s chin, a faint scratch that began at his chin and trailed just a few inches down the underside of his jaw. Jack hadn’t really noticed it before, as it was so small and so faint that he’d never given it any close attention. It was when Emma was rubbing at the dragon’s snout, the winged beast purring and crooning while Jack was busy trying to get a wayward sheep to listen to him and return to the flock that she felt the slightest of indents on her fingers as she stroked her fingers along his jaw.

 

Her eyes widened and her mouth parted in shock. The dragon opened his eyes and gave her a questioning warble, then he stilled as sadness filled her expression.

 

Once the sheep was safely back with the flock, he sprinted back to his sister and the dragon, smile on his face. It slipped when he saw the strange expression on his sister’s face. He couldn’t read the look on the dragon’s scaly face.

 

He frowned and crouched beside her. “Emma? What’s wrong?”

 

Wordlessly, she just turned her head to look at him, and took hold of his wrist. He blinked in confusion, but let his sister do as she pleased as she began moving his wrist and placed it against the dragon’s jaw. Something he’d done many times before.

 

Now his confusion was shifting into faint, half-hearted annoyance and he gave a sigh. “Emma, come on, what’s this about-?”

 

She pointed at the dragon’s chin and frowned at Jack. He was taken aback by how sad and somber her expression was. “Look,” she said softly.

 

And so he did, right at where she was pointing.

 

His eyes widened and he sucked in a breath.

 

Right there, was the faint scar. A sliver of pale pink against auburn scales. Small, almost insignificant, but still there.

 

How could he have never noticed that before?

 

And then, Jack began to wonder if the scar was old or if it was new. If it was new.. then did that mean the dragon had been attacked? And if so, by what?

 

His expression sobering, Jack slowly ran his fingers down the line of the scar and he could feel the dragon’s muscles tense underneath his touch. The dragon’s stare was a cautious one and Jack gave a warm smile to reassure him that everything was fine, that he was perfectly okay. The dragon had no need to worry about him.

 

His thumb ran over the scar once more and the dragon closed his eyes, before opening them again. Jack bit his bottom lip and hesitated before asking, “..Is it a new scar?”

 

The dragon stared at him for a beat and then shook his head. The dragon didn’t raise his eyes back up to meet Jack’s. Jack’s smile was a faint, sober one and he scratched underneath the dragon’s chin.

 

The dragon’s eyes lifted back to the human’s face and he gave a low croon deep in his chest. Jack’s smile widened and Emma hugged the dragon’s neck.

 

Neither the brother nor the sister asked the dragon about the scar again.

 

It didn’t stop either of them from wondering, though, and Jack was fearful as he wondered whether or not a human had caused that scar, how a human could get close enough to hurt the dragon enough to leave a permanent mark. And if a human did make that scar, Jack wondered what that meant about the dragon’s feelings towards humans.

 

Jack was not afraid for himself nor for his sister. The dragon had already shown plenty of times that he wouldn’t hurt either of them, but the dragon never strayed far from the woods, where he could easily hide and protect himself from sight. He never ventured into clear daylight or flew towards the village where he could be easily seen. When they all slept as night fell, the dragon was already gone and he’d leave as soon as the sun set, away from their home. As far as Jack knew, he and his sister were the only humans the dragon ever interacted with or allowed himself to be so close to. The few times that their mother had come looking for them while Jack was with the sheep and when Emma was with him, the dragon slid back into the darkness of the woods before she could see him. He wouldn’t come out again until she was gone.

 

The dragon was probably too scared of other humans to be anywhere near them.

 

Blinking himself out of his thoughts, Jack gave a final pat to the dragon’s nose and laughed when the dragon gave a huff of surprise at the touch. His eyes narrowed playfully as he lightly gripped the dragon’s jaw and gave it a little wriggle, making the dragon warble and blink at him.

 

“C’mon, big guy, it’s hot out, let’s go for a swim.”

 

The dragon’s lips curled upwards and the dragon warbled at him again before nudging his nose against Jack’s forehead. Emma slid her arm off of the dragon’s neck and burst out with laughter when the dragon dove into the lake and a large wave crashed onto Jack, soaking him and making him yelp out of alarm.

 

The sheep drank their water from the lake and slept through the sound of water splashing, shrieks of laughter, and chuffing that made the water ripple.

 

Their mother was surprised to find both of her children on their doorstep with baskets full of fish. Smiling and laughing behind her hand as Jack locked the sheep paddock, she asked them if they’d taken up fishing.

 

Jack and Emma glanced at each other and shared a mutual silly grin.

 

“More or less,” they said in unison.

 

The summer continued, and the sweltering heat passed into dry sunlight, and then the rains and winds of a beckoning autumn came. The dragon came and went as he pleased, never following a specific pattern, and there several long stretches of times when Emma and Jack saw no sign of the dragon. They went about their days and their lives as they always did; preparing for the winter and stocking up on salted meats, fruits, vegetables, tending to their garden, Jack minding the sheep as he always did, and Emma tending to needlework and weaving with her mother.

 

As autumn drew near, there was murmur and talk of a difficult winter. Winters were always hard in the valleys of the mountains, where Jack and his family lived, but their fellow villagers said that winter would be even harder this year. Torrents of rain had washed away the grains and crops of a village to the east of the mountains that served as their breadbasket, and the harvest was later than usual, so there was not enough for every villager to live off of for the entire winter.

 

Their mother was worried. Not for herself, but for her children. With the limited quantity of grain there was, the crop shot up in prices and it often went beyond her financial capabilities. There was only so much grain she could afford to buy and with the modest amount of money she received from selling her quilts and needlework, as well as the sheep’s wool, she only had enough money to buy enough grain for one person, perhaps two if they rationed it, to feed with throughout the winter. Not three. Two, at most.

 

Many a night did she spend at their kitchen table, her face in her hands as she gave a shuddering breath and prayed to the moon for help, for any way that she could feed both of her children.

 

Emma was asleep in her bed, curled underneath the blankets, and Jack pursed his lips and looked down at the floor in a glare as he listened to his mother’s desperate prayers. He looked back at Emma and the light of the single candle in the kitchen, sitting on the table his mother was seated at, slivering through the crack in the door. He bit his bottom lip and went to bed.

 

The next day, he smiled at his mother, helped her to tend the garden as he always did, made silly jokes and quips that made her smile and her crows feet crinkle. At dinner, he finished only half of his meal and gave the rest to his sister and his mother.

 

His mother frowned at him and he smiled and said that he wasn’t very hungry. They were free to take anything they wanted from his plate.

 

On a cool autumn day, the dragon shook off the red colored leaves off of his back and started at a low growl that echoed and squirmed in the quiet of the forest. The dragon gave an alarmed warble, his ears twitching, and looked down at the source. He cocked his head. Jack’s pale skin flushed pink.

 

With a nervous laugh, he pat at his stomach with one hand and rubbed at the back of his neck with the other.

 

“Guess I’m still hungry,” he said. The grin on his lips wavered. “It’s... gonna be a hard one this year, harder than usual. There’s not enough grain and crops to feed everyone at home.”

 

Jack made shapes and circles in the cool dirt with the end of his staff and missed the way that the dragon’s eyes widened in realization. He heard a warble and made an ‘oh!’ of surprise when he felt a weight against his shoulder and a rumble that vibrated through his bones. He felt hot breath against his cheek as well as warm, hard scales and grinned faintly. He patted the dragon’s chin.

 

“Don’t worry, big guy, I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

 

_I’ll make sure of it_.

 

The dragon didn’t miss the way Jack’s forced grin wavered.

 

When the sun set, he took the flock of sheep home after bidding the dragon goodbye, ignoring the churn of hunger in his stomach. At dinner, he would finish only half of his dinner once more, and share the rest with his mother and Emma.

 

Darkness fell, and a pair of green eyes peered through the shadows and he ran his fingers along the spine of his dragon, lips pursed and brows furrowed with thought. The dragon, black as night, blinked his bright green eyes at his rider and nudged at his elbow. Starting, he looked back at his companion and gave a faint smile.

 

“I’m okay, bud,” he said, giving the dark scales a scratch. “Just thinking.”

 

Toothless narrowed his eyes at his rider and warbled dubiously, making his rider roll his eyes at the dragon. Toothless let his tail fall into the young man’s lap as his rider laid against his side, his head of auburn hair falling back against his scales as he looked as the stars peeking through the bare branches of the trees. One hand stroked at the dragon’s tail and the other rested on top of Toothless’ head, pressed against his side. The dragon remained curled around his rider and the rider was lost in thought as he sought the stars and the moon for some answer to his thoughts.

 

A cool breeze, crisp and brisk, brushed against the bare skin of his face and his nose twitched. The wind reawakened the skin of his face and he gave a sigh of relief, his muscles relaxing.

 

It was growing cold quickly.

 

His father and mother were already preparing for the winter to come. Summer did not last long at home, and so the harvest was short than what those to the south were used to, but it gave his home enough time to prepare and grow their crops. The grain stores were full, almost overflowing this year.

 

The young man faintly remembered his father saying that they had almost too much grain than what they were able to store and reserve. There was plenty to spare. 

 

His eyes shot open and he sat up, a triumphant laugh crowing out of him, startling the dozing dragon. Toothless gave a tilt of his head and trilled a question. His rider grinned toothily at him.

 

“Feel up for a two-way trip?” His eyes narrowed teasingly. “Or is the big baby boo too tired?”

 

The dragon’s eyes widened and then narrowed, the corners of his mouth seeming to curl upwards, and the dragon gave a warble. Then Toothless opened his mouth and gave his rider a long, affectionate lick, to which his rider loudly protested against.

 

When she stepped out the door the next morning to feed the sheep, Jack’s mother rubbed at her eyes and blinked sleepily down at her doorstep. The autumn wind nipped at her skin and made her brown hair curl around her face.

 

At her doorstep was a large sack full of grain. Enough to feed her children and herself for the winter.

 

Jack was more than a bit startled by the swollen red lines around his mother’s eyes when he woke up that morning, but when he asked her what was wrong, she only beamed at him and pulled him into a sudden embrace.

 

Days later, Jack heard of the confused murmurs of the villagers, speaking of sudden bags of grain being deposited around the village to those who could not afford to buy grain in the marketplace. Whoever the gift giver was, they more than earned the villagers’ warm, earnest thanks and gratitude.

 

Jack wondered who they were and how they _knew_.

 

When telling a very sleepy auburn colored dragon of the sack full of grain left at their house that morning, Jack was so distracted with his own thoughts and questions that he did not see the way that the tired dragon’s lips curled upwards.

 

It was not the last time little gifts were left at their doorstep.

 

As the nights grew colder and the wind harsher, the winter spreading its breath along the valley, the more gifts were left at their doorstep.

 

The strangest of all was that the gifts were not useless trinkets meant to dazzle or awe, but items that they needed.

 

There was not enough money to buy Emma a new dress when the hem of her usual dress began to fray, the thread coming undone, nor could their mother afford to purchase fine leather, winter boots for her son as he grew out of his old pair (though she was chagrined to know that he often chose to go barefoot, even in winter at times, but she was firm in making him wear his boots until they were worn out). But one morning, after drawing her fleece scarf around her shoulders, she stepped outside to fetch water from a well on the other side of the hill and paused when she saw two brown packages on the doorstep. When she opened them, she found a pair of brown winter boots and a red and brown dress, the perfect sizes for her two children.

 

Holding her daughter’s new winter dress in her hands, she ran her fingers over the fabric and frowned in thought as she traced the intricate knotted design sewn into the dress. While she’d never seen this pattern and style before here in the village, or even any nearby town or kingdom, she could not help but find the pattern strangely familiar.

 

Perhaps she should’ve felt a larger sense of unease that these gifts were being left at her doorstep, and she couldn’t deny that she did. How could she not when someone who didn’t even leave a note saying who they were was leaving these items at her door? Any parent would be, and there were several nights where she fearfully wondered if these gifts and items spelled malicious intentions disguised as sincere gifts, pretty enough to trick her, and if this meant harm was coming her children’s way.

 

But as she made bread in the early mornings with the grain left at her door, and watched the expressions on her children’s faces light up as she gave Emma a new dress, and Jack his new boots, how warm their clothes now were, she wondered.

 

She wondered, she always did, and was content to watch her children eat the bread she’d made, Emma laughing into her slice as Jack grinned and told her a silly little story. Their mother wiped the crumbs off of his cheek with her thumb and gently chided him, making him flush and bat her hand lightly away. She only laughed and stroked at the top of his head, which made Emma smirk and tease him as he flushed further.

 

Whoever the strange gift giver was, she would like to meet them someday and thank them sincerely.

 

The first frost of the season settling in on the blades of grass, edges of leaves, and the branches of trees, Jack held up his new boots to the dragon and peered at them with a mockingly suspicious stare, stroking at his chin.

 

“Hmm... You know, boots have never been really my thing,” He said with a casual shrug. “I prefer to go barefoot.”

 

The dragon gave him a blank stare and whuffed at him, making his hair ruffle.

 

Jack pat it back down and laughed, eyes crinkling. “But mom’ll have my hide if I don’t wear them when winter comes. So,” He gave a faux despondent sigh. “Boots it is.”

 

A growl of satisfaction rumbled deep in the dragon’s chest and he rested his head on his front legs, his tail pulling the young man against him to keep Jack warm from the oncoming cold. Jack grinned and pat at the dragon’s side, and he watched as the sheep tugged the last leaves off of the bushes.

 

The dragon gave his draconic smile when Emma wore the dress for the first time and showed it to both her brother and the dragon, and she giggled when the dragon crooned in approval, giving a bob of his head. Emma imitated him, smiling wide and hugging the dragon’s snout. Jack laughed at the bob of Emma’s head, making her flush in mild embarrassment, and the dragon gave him a little whap to the back of the head in reprimand with his tail fin.

 

The frost continued to furl and curl along the glass of their windows, growing larger, colder, lingering longer than before as winter breathed on the valley. The last of the leaves fell and Jack, with the help of his mother and his sister, built a modest shelter for the sheep to last them through the winter. The trees were bare, their branches dark and cold, gradually coated with ice and frost, and the first snowfall came in a light dust, coating the grass and the soil, and then heavier snowfalls came afterwards. Soon, enough snow fell that the white sheets came up to his shin, and it was then that he was thankful to have such new, clean boots.

 

Though it was cold and the winds were harsh and unforgiving, Emma rolled her eyes as her brother gave a large whoop of joy as he awoke to the first snowfall of the year.

 

After they’d had breakfast and bundled up, her mother wrapping a scarf around Emma’s neck and forcing a pair of gloves into Jack’s petulant hands, Jack took her hand and led her outside. They fell on their backs, laughing and Jack crowing with delight as they made their first angels in the snow this winter. When they were finished making their angels in the snow, they built snow men together and then had a snowball fight with children from the village. Her children came home with frost coated hair and snow melting into their collars.

 

Jack loved winter.

 

He loved the snow, whether it came down in large, soft puffs or white or whipping down from the sky. He loved the cold winds and how it nipped at his nose and his cheeks, making them flush red. He loved watching his breath in the cold air, how it billowed out of his mouth or through his nose as if it were smoke, and he was a dragon that breathed fire. He loved the crisp whiteness of the covered ground after a snowstorm, how quiet mornings were, the snow draped over the pine trees like curtains, and the mountains grey in the distance. He loved it all, and though his mother may complain of the cold and sigh at his reluctance to even wear gloves, and his sister would want to go home after getting snow stuck in her shoes, he was not deterred in his love for the cold season.

 

A season which meant the death of life to many, but for Jack, winter was when he felt the most alive.

 

But as the days and nights grew colder, the snow thicker, and the wind harsher, there was one setback of the season that he did not enjoy.

 

When winter arrived, the gaps between the dragon’s visits to the valley grew longer.

 

Jack hadn’t noticed the gaps in time, not at first, because the dragon’s visits were sporadic and had no clear pattern to them. The dragon appeared to come and go whenever he pleased, and that was all right by Jack and Emma. When the first frost arrived to the valley, there was nearly two weeks gap between the dragon’s visits, and Jack, though haven gotten used to the dragon staying for several days at a time, did not think much of it. He presumed that the dragon had to return to his family, should he have one. When the dragon returned and blinked his playful green eyes at Jack, the young man forgot about the elongated lapse in time.

 

The next time the dragon visited, over two weeks had passed between the separate visits.

 

More snow had fallen and the storms came quickly, and with the land covered in white, it wasn’t difficult to spot the auburn colored dragon, not with the trees bare and the pine trees coated in white. And when he would venture out towards the edge of the woods, accompanied by Emma or the sheep, he would smile and look around with hopeful brown eyes.

 

And he would find no trace of the dragon.

 

Not a rumble, not a claw mark etched into the trunk of a tree, no rustling of large, auburn wings, no pair of green eyes glowing in the shadows of the woods.

 

Nothing.

 

He frowned and shrugged it off the first couple of times, but after a week and half passed and there was still no trace of the dragon, he began to worry.

 

The sheep wandered about the edge of the pond Jack liked to sit by when he wanted a moment or two to himself and he toed at the edge of the bank, where ice was starting to form and crust around the water. A heavy frown pulled at his lips.

 

“Where do you even go?” He muttered to himself, giving a little thrust of his ankle to make a small splash in the cold water.

 

Jack didn’t want to think of the possibility that the dragon might’ve been hurt or worse. That was the most extreme, dire conclusion, and Jack refused to believe that either of the two could’ve happened to the dragon. No, the dragon was too smart for that.

 

_Didn’t stop him from getting caught in a trap you saved him from_ , said the little voice in the back of his head that made his skin prickle. _It could happen again, and you won’t be there to help him_.

 

His foot made a heavy splash in the water as he shook his head harshly, scowl on his lips. No, no, he would not think like that. The dragon was fine, he was.. probably with his nest, if he had one, or went home to his family, or might even be hibernating for the winter. He didn’t see the dragon at all the last winter before, after he’d rescued him from that net trap. Maybe... like bears, dragon went into hibernation.

 

Yes, hibernation. Jack was going to believe in that.

 

...He _hoped_ dragons went into hibernation and that he wasn’t just relying on a foolish hope.

 

Running a hand through his hair and sighing, Jack frowned and made another little splash in the water with his heel before he stood up and left the pond, taking the sheep with him. Once he was out of the woods and began walking home, he looked over his shoulder one last time, squinting into the darkness of the trees. Nothing.

 

He went home.

 

When the second week passed, Emma started getting worried and questioning. Just as Jack was, she’d gotten used to both the dragon’s erratic schedules of his visits and his presence, and she was perturbed by the dragon’s absence.

 

His mother went to fetch cold water at the well and Jack was helping her chop vegetables for dinner on the night of the second week, and Emma came up to his side to take the inedible pieces and the seeds. She collected the seeds in her hands and made to pour them in a glass jar, then she paused. She glanced at her brother, frown on her lips.

 

“...Where did he go?” She asked softly.

 

Jack paused in his chopping. He stared down at the sliced vegetables. 

 

“I don’t know,” he said.

 

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

 

Hearing the hesitance and sadness in her voice, Jack forced a cheery smile on his lips and gave Emma a little nudge of his shoulder, laughing at her shocked, disgruntled stare.

 

“Of course he will! He didn’t come back during last winter either, he’s probably just resting for the winter,” he said, and his grin widened when a hesitant smile curled on her lips.

 

It wasn’t a lie, he convinced himself of that. It wasn’t a lie because the dragon didn’t show himself last winter, and yet he still came back to the valley when the weather was warmer. He was probably hibernating and he would come back when it was warm again, he was sure of it.

 

It wasn’t a lie, he told himself as his mother came back with a bucket of water that she boiled over the fireplace, and he and his mother tossed the vegetables into the water to make a broth. As they ate, Jack tried to banish any and all thoughts of the dragon never coming back.

 

He did not want to admit to himself that the dragon had become an important part of his life.

 

As Emma slept peacefully, Jack looked out the window and found the moon blocked by grey clouds promising another downpour of storm. He closed his eyes and fell into an uneasy sleep.

 

Nearly a week passed, and Emma and Jack were having a snow ball fight on the edge of the forest, laughing and shrieking at each other when bits of snow fell down through their clothes. A large one smacked Jack right in the face, taking him by surprise, and he fell back to the ground with a might yelp, and Emma’s laughter filled the air. Wiping the tears of laughter off her cheeks, her giggles subsided and she opened her eyes.

 

And found a pair of glowing green eyes staring back at her.

 

With a face full of cold snow melting on his face and sticking to his hair, Jack didn’t see Emma’s wide hazel eyes and the open mouthed grin forming on her lips, revealing some baby teeth missing. Grumbling, he sat up and wiped the snow off of his face, missing the way the dragon’s eyes flickered between Emma, Jack, and snow piled up next to the wood’s edge. Emma’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and then rose in realization. The dragon’s lips curled upwards.

 

Emma had to smother her snickers.

 

She had a slightly more difficult time hiding the smile twitching on her lips when Jack finally stood up, wiping the snow off of his brown cloak. He kneeled down to take a pile of snow in his hands and pat them into a firm snowball, only to furrow his brows at the odd smile on Emma’s lips. Eyes narrowing playfully, Jack tilted his head and stood up, a wry smile curling on his mouth.

 

“What’re you smiling about?”

 

Emma blinked innocently at him. “Me? Smiling? Oh, nothing!”

 

Jack gave his sister a blank stare and Emma just blinked at him again, the smile still on her lips.

 

“Sure,” he said dryly.

 

“Really!” She said, trying very hard to not laugh when she saw the dragon’s wing unfolding and piling snow onto it. The dragon raised it high above Jack’s head, not enough for his shadow to be visible, but close enough. The dragon’s mouth parted in a toothy grin.

 

“C’mon Emma, fess up, you can’t hide anything from me, we _live_ together--”

 

Her shrieks of laughter chorused with his sudden scream with a large pile of snow dumped over his entire body.

 

“Wha-- WHAT-- _Emma!_ By the gods, how did you--!? _Oooh_ that’s cold--!” 

 

Now shivering from the snow covering him whole, Jack shook the snow out of his hair and threw Emma a wide-eyed glare, which only seemed to make her laugh even harder. And oh _wow_ it felt like his legs were starting to go numb did some of the snow get in his **pants** \--

 

_Where did all that snow even come from!?_

 

“Emma! Stop laughing! Where did that--!?”

 

Amidst her giggling, he heard familiar sounding chuffs and a low rumble of amusement.

 

He froze.

 

Slowly, he turned around, and met a pair of beaming forest green eyes and a familiar head of auburn colored scales.

 

The dragon huffed through his nose and his warm breath came out in smoke-like whiffs of air from his nostrils.

 

Jack forgot about how cold he was, the snow melting at the back of his neck, the damp locks of his hair sticking to his forehead and the tips of said locks beginning to crust over with frost, and he smiled. Wide, toothy and breathless, he laughed.

 

“Hey, big guy!”

 

The dragon’s green eyes flickered with warmth and he gave a croon, closing his eyes as Jack ran forward to embrace the dragon’s snout.

 

Jack indulged in the dragon’s warmth and the smooth scales against his hands, sighing with content, and pressed his cheek against the bridge of the dragon’s nose. He grinned when he felt the dragon rumble against him, and pulled back, only to see Emma run towards the dragon to do the same, hugging the dragon around the snout.

 

The dragon gave another happy croon at her embrace and she burst out giggling when the dragon lifted his snout just so, lifting her a few inches above the ground, making her feet dangle as she clung on to him. 

 

“We’ve missed you!” She said when the dragon set her down, and the lines around the dragon’s eyes creased. He gave a low warble of apology and a little nudge against her forehead. Emma smiled and pat at his nose.

 

Jack scratched underneath the dragon’s chin, making the dragon purr, and he grinned faintly. “Didn’t think you were gonna show up this winter.”

 

The dragon blinked at him, raised his head and huffed a breath at him before giving a warble.

 

Blinking back at the warm air in his face, Jack grinned wider and hooked his thumbs past the dragon’s lips and gave his jaw a little wiggle. It stretched into a smirk at the offended sounding warble that came next.

 

“Next time you show up, how about you _not_ drop a huge pile of snow on me?”

 

The dragon gave him a half-lidded stare and Jack gave him an angelic smile.

 

Then he yelped when another snowball smacked right into the side of his face.

 

“EMMA!”

 

His sister cackled and the dragon chuffed with laughter.

 

\---

 

The dragon didn’t venture far from the edge of the woods, and though Jack was confused about what the dragon’s reasons were at first, he realized quickly how stark the dragon’s auburn scales were against the crisp white snow. Upon realizing that the dragon was afraid of being seen and was far more vulnerable in the winter, Jack understood why the dragon took such a long time to return to the valley, and though he was ecstatic to have the dragon back again, he would no longer begrudge the dragon for his more sparse visits.

 

He’d rather the dragon be farther away in safety than close by and vulnerable to being seen and then hunted down.

 

When the dragon visited, Emma and Jack would play and watch over the sheep in the woods, throwing snowballs at each other from behind tall trunks, or dropping them from high above the ground, perched on a branch. Once, hanging upside down from a branch, Jack grinned and chucked snowballs down at his sister, making her squeal and throw snowballs right back up at him.

 

The dragon sniffed at the young man hanging upside from the tree, and using a wing, helped Jack back down to the ground.

 

While the dragon napped on the bank of the lake, when the ice was thick enough, Jack would fetch both pairs of skates and he and Emma would circle around the sheet of ice. The dragon cracked his eyes open to keep watch of them, and one time, when it seemed as if Emma was about to fall, stumbling on her skates, the dragon took the back of her cloak collar between his teeth and righted her up.

 

The dragon never came on the ice for fairly obvious reasons, but he watched with interest and crooned his encouragement to the brother and sister.

 

Sparse were the dragon’s visits to the valley, more-so than during the warm months, but Jack did not complain. He simply enjoyed the time he had with dragon while he could. He treasured every moment.

 

The days were steadily growing shorter, the winds colder, and the snow coming down thicker, and when darkness began to set earlier, the earlier the dragon flew away. And Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that the dragon was growing steadily more anxious and nervous. The dragon would always sniff the wind and watch the sun behind the grey, overcast clouds, always checking when the sun was setting. When the winds were too harsh, the dragon would warble his goodbyes and disappear into the darkness of the woods, and when they were not, he would fly off into the oncoming shadow of night.

 

As a result, the dragon’s visits were often cut short, and Jack wasn’t sure what to think.

 

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t at least a little annoyed by the odd change in the dragon’s behavior. The dragon’s visits were becoming increasingly scarce as it was, why was the dragon so anxious to leave? Unless he was mistaken, the dragon still enjoyed the time spent with him and Emma, so what caused this change in behavior?

 

Jack didn’t know. And he didn’t know how to ask.

 

So, he didn’t, and just enjoyed the little time he _did_ get with the dragon.

 

Upon the middle of January, after a modest Christmas in which Jack gave Emma a new pair of ice skates and his mother a finely knitted scarf and a warm New Years spent by the fireplace, Jack turned seventeen. And now that he was seventeen, his mother knew that his childhood was coming to an end. Though she was loathe to tell him so, it was in his best interests, and in early February, she told him that he ought to take an apprenticeship in the village.

 

Jack frowned and his thick, dark brows furrowed. “But.. wouldn’t that mean I would have to leave?”

 

His mother closed her eyes and opened them again, her jaw setting. She did not want him to see her flinch, how his leaving would hurt her. She had to do this for him.

 

His mother nodded, the lines around her gray eyes straining and Jack’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Yes. You would move in with your master tutor, and he or she would teach you all there is to know,” she said. She watched the stubborn set of her son’s jaw and already knew his answer.

 

“No.”

 

She sighed. “Jack, you’re seventeen.”

 

“What does that matter?” He asked, fists beginning to clench at his sides.

 

His mother’s mouth pressed into a thin, firm line and her gray eyes hardened.

 

“It matters, Jack, because whether you like it or not, you’re going to have responsibilities beyond this house one day, perhaps even beyond this valley--” She heard his breath catch and the subtle widening of his brown eyes and closed hers. “And I need you to be prepared for that.”

 

Her eyes opened and her crows feet strained with fatigue.

 

“I am not going to be here forever, Jack. You need to go out into the world as a young man and make your own life.”

 

Sudden hurt and some horror flashed over his face and Jack staggered on his feet. He clutched the shepherd's staff in his hands tightly and swallowed, his grip straining against the wood. His mother did not have to be explicit for him to know what she was saying.

 

“I can make my life here,” he said. “I can stay here, I have a life here already, why do I need to make a new one?”

 

His mother sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly and rubbed at her temples. “Because you need to have your own life, and one day, you will leave this house.”

 

Jack’s teeth clenched and he gritted out. “No.”

 

A beat.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I said no, I’m not leaving. You--You and Emma, you both still need me here--”

 

She sighed and rubbed at her now aching temples again. “Emma is almost nine years old, Jack. She can help me around the house. Soon, she’ll be able to manage the sheep by herself. You don’t need to always take care of her.” She paused. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “And one day, she might leave this house, too, and start her own life, her own family. You will both leave. It is only a matter of _when_.”

 

No, no, he didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want Emma to leave, and he didn’t want to be shipped off like cattle to some older man or woman he didn’t know to become their apprentice and live with them. He wanted to stay here, where he had his mother, hissister, the sheep currently sleeping in their paddock, the woods and its little lakes and its ponds, and the dragon that gave him friendship.

 

And yet, his mother was pushing him away, urging him to leave.

 

He wanted to laugh.

 

“I don’t want to be anyone’s apprentice!”

 

His mother was quickly growing frustrated in the face of her son’s sheer stubbornness.

 

“Jack, you’re almost a man, now! You have to take up some sort of craft to support yourself! You cannot stay here forever,” she said firmly, her brows furrowing together as her ire rose.

 

Gods, she loved her son, she loved him dearly, but by Woden was he one of the most stubborn, headstrong people she’d ever known. He always had been. Her husband would always murmur in her ear that he inherited that stubborn streak from her, and then laugh his quiet, soft laugh.

 

But while Jack had her stubbornness, he’d inherited his father’s looks, through and through, and she saw it now as his expression shifted towards anger. Sometimes, it was painful to look at him, reminding her so much of her late husband, but she loved her son so much.

 

That’s why she had to be firm now.

 

She wanted him to have a life of his own someday, with somebody he loved, a place to call home.

 

If only he would just _listen_ to her.

 

“You can just decide that for me!” He shouted, his brown eyes blazing and his grip white-knuckled tight on the staff.

 

“ _I’m your_ ** _mother_** _!_ ” She shouted back. “You still live under _my_ roof and **I** make the decisions!”

 

Brown eyes wide, Jack took a step back and his grip on his staff nearly faltered. He gaped at her, and she immediately felt guilty. But she could not back down, not now. She almost never raised her voice at her son, almost never shouted at him unless he’d truly deserved to be yelled at for something that he’d done, it was only a last resort tactic. She knew that she could’ve controlled herself a bit more tightly, but she just wanted him to _understand_ just how important it was for him to find an apprenticeship, learn a craft, and start a life of his own. He has to leave the comfortable nest of home one day, she just wants him to be prepared.

 

She doesn’t want him to go, but he needs to live a life of his own someday.

 

He just didn’t understand that it’s not a matter of her wanting him to leave home. That wasn’t it at all.

 

But he couldn’t help but take it that way.

 

The guilt tore at her as his brown eyes shimmered and he bit down on a trembling bottom lip. Jack cleared his throat harshly and swallowed back the lump that’d begun forming. He shut his eyes tightly and opened them again, blinking out the stinging sensation. When he spoke, his voice was in a low croak.

 

“..I’m gonna go to bed,” he murmured, not looking at her.

 

A single hazel eye, wide-eyed and full of distress, flickered and moved away from the crack in the doorway to his room. Neither Jack nor his mother saw.

 

His mother pursed her lips and she sighed. “All right. Goodnight, Jack.”

 

Not looking at her, Jack made a noise in the back of his throat in return, and retreated to his room, closing the door behind him and finding Emma curled up and asleep in their shared bed. Without getting underneath the blankets, he laid on the old mattress and glared up at the ceiling. His staff clattered to the ground and he turned on his side, his brown eyes flickering towards the sky, lit by the half-moon behind the clouds. He searched for any flicker of auburn red and found none. He scowled into his pillow and closed his eyes shut, the exhaustion soon taking over him. His sleep was restless and Emma looked over her shoulder at her restlessly sleeping brother, a concerned frown on her lips.

 

Worried and uneasy, her stomach churning in discomfort and her ears ringing from the echoes of their shouting, she fell back to sleep.

 

Tense silence fell between mother and son and Emma was left in the middle, looking back and forth between her mother and Jack, both eating and refusing to look at each other. She tugged at the end of a lock of hair anxiously and picked at her food, her stomach too nervous to eat very much. It continued for the rest of the week and Emma was at a loss at what to do.

 

Unless he was required to be at home doing chores, sleeping or sharing meals with them, Jack was almost never in the house and made an effort to not be around, whether the sheep were with him or not. He was irritable, his mouth and brows set in an almost permanent scowl as his mother’s words clattered about in the back of his mind, in his thoughts, only worsening his mood, and he barely even seemed to want to play in the snow anymore. The snow would start melting soon; Emma could feel the warmer winds coming, and Jack usually made the best of the time he had left with the winter months and the snow before it melted. But now, he showed no interest.

 

He still let Emma accompany him as he watched the sheep, but he seemed distracted and uninterested in whatever she had to say or wanted to do (though he didn’t mean to be so disinterested in what his sister had to say, he was just thinking about other things). It made Emma less inclined to be around him when he was like this, rare as it was. For about an hour she would try to get him to talk, to laugh or just smile, to do something, but after one too many non-committal noises, she would frown, sigh, and walk back home.

 

There as no getting through to him when he was like this.

 

He was much like their mother in that fashion, who was also being tight-lipped and silent around her son.

 

Emma hated it.

 

The fact that the dragon hadn’t come back for a visit in over a week only seemed to make matters worse. Jack’s mood seemed to deteriorate further when he wandered around the edge of the woods and kept glancing between the trees for any sign of glowing green eyes or auburn colored scales. He searched and searched and found no sign of the dragon, and his ire only grew. He’d even snapped at Emma to leave him alone, drawing meaningless shapes in the snow and she’d bit her lip, feeling her eyes water, and then nodded, but not before muttering the word “jerk” under her breath before going home.

 

The guilt he felt at seeing the look on his sister’s face did not help his mood at all.

 

But as they fell asleep that night, Emma’s back facing him, his brows furrowed and he nestled a bit closer.

 

“Hey,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, okay?”

 

After a pause, she turned to look over her shoulder at him with slightly narrowed eyes, the hurt still on her face. He winced at her expression but he gave her a sober, warmer smile. There was another pause before she looked away from him again and settled back into her spot on the bed.

 

“..Okay,” she whispered.

 

His smile softened, and sleep came to him more easily that night.

 

But he wasn’t completely okay just yet; his mother and him were still on barely speaking terms with each other, both refusing to relent to the other, and the tension only festered further. Before he could outburst out of frustration at his mother, he would leave the house and venture to the edge of the woods, pulling at his face and sighing, looking into the darkness of the woods and hoping that his friend would come back, just so that he could talk to someone and have them listen.

 

This past week only proved further just how important the dragon had become to him. How the dragon was truly a creature that he could call his friend. And _of course_ he had to realize that when the dragon wasn’t even there.

 

With an aggravated sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the ground and rested his chin in his palm, the staff laid across his crossed legs.

 

A branch cracked and broke and he looked up, blinking. Another branch broke underneath a heavy footstep, and when Jack heard a distinct rumble, he sat up and he grinned widely.

 

An auburn colored, reptilian head poked out of the darkness of the trees and green eyes glimmered, the snow reflecting in them, and Jack immediately felt lighter.

 

“Right on time, big guy,” he said, his eyes crinkling from how widely he was smiling. The dragon crooned.

 

Jack extended his hand and the dragon’s snout pressed against his palm.

 

His back pressed against the dragon’s sigh and his hand absentmindedly stroking the crown of the dragon’s head, feeling his breath against his leg, Jack sighed in content and let his head fall back against the smooth scales. A faint, tired but easy smile curled on his lips. He’d told the dragon everything: his birthday, how Emma was getting better and better at carving shapes into pieces of wood, a hobby of hers, and the argument he’d had with his mother.

 

“It’s like she wants me to leave them both,” he’d said, his voice cracking. His eyes were stinging and he was curled up against the dragon’s neck. “Like it’s not enough for me to stay home when all I wanna do is just-- just help her and Emma out. Why does she want me to _go?_ ”

 

Week long held tears were let loose and the dragon gave a low, soft croon and nudged at Jack’s cheek with his snout softly, making the young man snort with teary, choked laughter. Everything that’d been on his mind the past week, he told the dragon. And the dragon let him talk, he let him cry, and he let him rest against him, making no noise except for comforting warbles, croons and purrs. He wrapped his wing around Jack’s form to keep him warm and Jack’s smile stretched across his hot, salt-wet face.

 

When he could find no more words to release and give voice to his frustrations, the dragon’s wing folded back and he curled his tail around the young man, and Jack sighed and let his voice rest, indulging in the dragon’s warmth.

 

As Jack rested, the dragon’s green eyes looked at him as if they were meeting for the first time again. They flickered with realization, widening and then softening. Something like an understanding glimmered through the dragon’s expression and the dragon closed his eyes. He rumbled deep in his throat and Jack smiled, his cheek pressed against warm scales.

 

Jack did not speak much after that. Instead, he chose to enjoy the time he had with the dragon, stroking at his snout, his scales, his neck and his sides, the little area where the wing bone met his shoulder being the dragon’s favorite place to be scratched at, underneath his chin. Taking a short nap against his side, knowing that he was safe and had nothing to be worried about when he was here, away from the house, in the woods with the dragon.

 

Leaving the dragon was a difficult process.

 

The sun was setting behind the overcast skies, he could tell. The dragon was fidgeting in place, kneading his claws into the ground, anxious and nervous. With a wry grin, Jack laughed and pat at his neck.

 

“All right, big guy, I’ll go home now.”

 

His answer was a warble and a curl of draconic lips.

 

He smiled and his chest tightened, but his shoulders did not feel so heavy and tense anymore. His hand lingered on the dragon’s snout as he said his goodbyes, and with a final croon and nudge, the dragon disappeared back into the woods. Jack walked back home, into the tense air and unyielding silence past his doorway.

 

\---

 

The sun having set beyond the mountains, and darkness falling over the white-coated lands, a hand pushed back the branches of a pine tree and green eyes stared out beyond the hills of the valley, spotting a modest home with its windows lit yellow. He felt warm breath against his ear and a warble, then a weight on his shoulder.

 

He stroked at Toothless’ jaw and gave a faint smile, his eyes still lingering on the candlelit windows.

 

“I guess we’re more alike than I thought, huh?” He murmured softly.

 

His gaze lingered on the lit windows of the house and then turned away when his dragon moved his head off of his shoulder, warbling at him to rest and eat something. He let the branches spring back into place and he followed after him, deeper into the woods.

 

\---

 

Dinner was quiet.

 

At least Jack wasn’t scowling or stabbing at his food with his fork like he had been for the past week, but he was quiet. He was distracted, lost in his thoughts and the memory of warm scales and how safe he’d felt while touching them. He pushed his food back and forth on his plate and his mother closed her eyes and locked her jaw at the aggravating sound of the hands of his fork sliding against the old ceramic. She folded her hands together on the table and waited for him to finish. Emma looked between two of them anxiously.

 

Once he was finished and pushed his plate aside, his mother held a sigh of relief and picked up their plates. She began washing them and her children stood up from the table, but before Jack could retreat to his room--

 

“Jack, stay in here. I’d like to talk to you.”

 

He stopped mid-step and glanced at his mother, his brows knitting together.

 

“Emma, you can go to bed.”

 

Hesitating, Emma shuffled on her two feet before giving a nod and a muttered, ‘yes, mom’ and left to her room, shutting the door behind her. She sat by the crack of the doorframe and listened in.

 

Jack stood in the same spot he’d been stopped in and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fiddling with his fingers behind his back. He looked up when his mother spoke.

 

“Come help me clean the dishes.”

 

Not saying a word, that’s just what he did. he walked up to his mother and stood beside her, took one of the dirty plates and took a wet rag. He wiped the food stains off of the dish and he and his mother washed the dishes in silence. 

 

After several minutes of quiet, Jack lost his patience with his mother’s stalling and asked carefully, “I though you wanted to talk to me about something..?”

 

“I do,” she said, still wiping a plate dry. “Have you thought about it?”

 

Jack paused. He didn’t look at her.

 

“About what?”

 

She glanced at him with a firm look. “The apprenticeship. Have you thought about it?”

 

A muscle in his jaw twitched and he scowled. He turned back to the plate and scrubbed harder than necessary.

 

“My answer is still no.”

 

His mother closed her eyes and her nostrils flared as she inhaled. “Jack.”

 

“No.”

 

“ _Jack_.”

 

“ **No**.”

 

She gave him a hard stare, eyes slightly narrowed. “You’re acting like a child.”

 

“And _you’re_ not listening to me,” he shot back. “I told you last week, my answer is no, and it’s still no. I don’t want to take up some stupid apprenticeship with someone I don’t even know!”

 

His mother tried to maintain her composure. “Then I will find you someone you _do_ know. You often spend time with the village children when you’re there, don’t you? I could find you an apprenticeship with the schoolmaster--”

 

Jack threw his rag into the bucket of dirty water. “You’re still not listening to me! I don’t care who it is, whether I know them or not, I’m still not going to take up a dumb apprenticeship!”

 

“Why not?” She said, her tone hard as steel.

 

“Because I don’t want to! Why is that so hard to understand!?” Water collected at the corner of his eyes. “Why are you trying to push me out so much? Do-” He sucked in a breath. “Do you really want me out that badly?”

 

She could see his jaw trembling and her breath caught. Her eyes were beginning to sting and not for the first time, wished her husband could be there with them, too. But she had to do this alone, and she would. She had to show Jack that no, that wasn’t what she meant _at all_ \--

 

“How could you even _think_ that, Jack?” She breathed. “Of course I don’t--”

 

“Then why are you pushing this so hard!?”

 

“Because I want what’s best for you!”

 

“That’s not for **you** to decide!”

 

Unable to listen anymore, Emma whimpered as she curled her knees into her chest, covered her ears and closed her eyes.

 

“Jack! I’m your _mother_! You need to trust me on this--!”

 

“It’s **my** life! Not yours! I’ll decide what’s best for me!” He shouted, his voice cracking at the last syllable as an angry tear trailed down his cheek. His mother gasped and remorse filled her when she saw it.

 

She never meant to do this to her son. No, no, he just didn’t _understand_ , she didn’t want him to leave her, but he had to start living his own life and she _needed_ him to understand.

 

“Jack--”

 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he snapped. Turning on his heel, he grabbed his cloak and shoved it on, took his staff in his hands and sprinted out the door into the darkness of the outside. He didn’t even feel the snow crunching beneath his feet, nor the cold wind on his face.

 

“Wait--Where do you think you’re going-- _Jack-!_ ”

 

He slammed the door shut behind him and didn’t look back.

 

The wind slapped against his face and the snow came down in pellets and he ran and ran and ran. He kept running and didn’t take notice of the bare branches scratching against his cheeks. His face felt too hot for him to even care about how cold it was, his lack of scarf and gloves. He didn’t care.

 

He just wanted to get away.

  
Out of that house, away from his mother, away from whatever she was trying to plan for him.

 

It was _his_ life and _he_ would decide what to do with it. Not his mother.

 

Her distraught face, so tired and full of remorse came to mind and Jack felt a flicker of guilt before the residual anger flooded in.

 

Jaw locking, he strode further into the darkness of the woods, the heels of his boots scuffing against the snow covered forest floor, and he wondered if he’d find the dragon again. He hadn’t flown away that afternoon. He must still be there, perhaps sleeping in the forest.

 

He wasn’t afraid of being in the woods alone at night. The dragon had all but frightened any wolves away from this part of the mountains and he hadn’t heard of any bears coming here in several years. He’d been in the forest alone before (several times after his father’s death), and he had nothing to worry about. As far as he was concerned, the dragon ruled these woods. No predator would dare venture into a dragon’s territory.

 

Jack gave a shrug to himself and walked down a familiar path in the woods; covered by snow or not, he would always remember it.

 

Within only a few minutes, Jack took the first step down the hill and saw the moon bursting through the clouds, the snowstorm passing him by at last, and its beams of light reflecting off of the ice on the pond. His favorite pond. The one he went to when he needed to be alone.

 

It was the same pond his father first taught him how to ice skate on.

 

He hadn’t brought his skates with him, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need them.

 

With a content sigh, Jack lowered his staff to the edge of the bank and sat by the edge of the water bank, seeing the shards of ice clinging to the frozen soil. He smiled and toed at it with the tip of his boot. The wind had calmed down since he ran out of the house and the breeze was light against his skin, cooling his frayed nerves. He closed his eyes and let his head tilt back. His fingers curled in the snow and he relished in the feeling.

 

_Snap._

 

Brown eyes shot open and Jack twisted to look over his shoulder, brows furrowing at the darkness. His eyes narrowed and he searched for the source of what sounded like a branch or a twig snapping in two. It’d come from behind him.

 

“What..” he murmured.

 

Was someone else there? Or.. had he been mistaken and there were other predators in the woods..?

 

His shoulders tensed as a nearby bush rustled, and his legs steeled themselves to bolt when a gray rabbit hopped out of the bush, blinked its brown eyes at him, wriggled its nose, and then hopped away into the woods.

 

Snorting to himself, he shook his head, berating himself for being frightened by a rabbit of all things, and began watching the moon again.

 

He did not hear the inaudible sigh of relief.

 

Nor did he feel the two pairs of green eyes watching him from a short distance, hidden by the shadows of the tall pine trees.

 

A freckled, scarred hand pat at the ridge of the beast’s brow, urging him to be quiet. The beast breathed through his nose and he gave the dragon a grateful smile. His green eyes flickered back to the brown haired young man sitting by the edge of the pond, who’d begun to stand up, picking his staff up with him.

 

Taking a breath, Jack stepped onto the ice of the frozen pond. The first step was cautious, and he pressed his heel into the ice to see if it would crack. It didn’t. Jack took another step. No crack. Another, and still no crack. He exhaled and his shoulders relaxed, his breath billowing into the night air, and he stepped further onto the ice.

 

Even without his skates, Jack often did this when he needed a moment alone. The flats of his boots slid against the ice and he grinned as he moved smoothly along the surface. To push him across the span of the lake, he used the bottom of his staff to push him across, and he let out a breathless laugh as he sent himself flying to the other side of the bank. He sucked in the cold night air as he spun on top of the ice, using his staff to lead him where he wanted to go. Jack decided to be a little more daring and moved to do a figure eight, marveling at how smooth the ice was.

 

Underneath the darkness of the pine trees, the owner of the forest green eyes gingerly set himself down on the snow covered ground, his dragon companion following suit, and he smiled as he watched Jack fly across the frozen water. He absently scratched underneath the dragon’s chin.

 

When Jack tripped over himself on the last turn of his figure eight and fell on the ice with a squawk, he smothered a snort of laughter and the dragon rolled his bottle green eyes.

 

Grunting and cursing quietly, Jack rubbed at his aching rear and pushed himself back up onto the ice, his movements slow and careful. Once up, he let out a puff of breath and straightened his shoulders. A grin curling on his lip once more, he pushed the bottom of his staff and sent himself flying across the ice.

 

As the wind whipped around his face as he spun and slid, he wondered how it would feel to fly for real.

 

He wondered what the dragon saw when he flew above the clouds.

 

Maybe, the next time he saw the dragon, he’d ask if he could let him fly on his back. Just this once.

 

Oblivious to his audience, Jack spent the next few minutes flying across the frozen pond, dragging the end of his staff on the surface and making figures and shapes in the frost and snow coating parts of the ice. He laughed breathlessly, full of life and joy, his blood running hot and fast in his veins even though the tip of his nose was turning a dark pink, and he would give little yelps of alarm when it felt as if he was about to slip and fall before laughing again when straightening himself back up.

 

Breathing heavily and coming to a stop in the middle of the pond, Jack opened his eyes and looked back up at the moon and its glow, bouncing off of the lake and reflecting on his pale skin.

 

Beneath the pine trees, the dragon with bottle green eyes looked at his rider and tilted his head at the odd expression on the human’s face. The lines on the human’s face were soft and relaxed, but his rider’s eyes were transfixed on the one flapping about on the frozen pond. The dragon looked between them and narrowed his eyes at his rider.

 

Looking away from the moon at last, Jack sighed and turned his gaze towards the path that would lead him home. His smile slipped and his brow furrowed in thought. The guilt was slowly coming back, and he knew that he would have to apologize to his mother, frustrated as he was with her. Much as he was reluctant to, he still would. And Emma..

 

He frowned heavily.

 

She must’ve overheard. He knew his sister, the little sneak she was. Gods, he needed to apologize to her, too..

 

With a sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and rubbed a thumb against the wood of the staff with the other.

 

“Time to go home, I guess,” he muttered to the emptiness of the woods.

 

The dragon shielded by shadows seemed to agree, and he nudged at his rider’s elbow with his snout. Jostled from his thoughts, his rider gave him a raised eyebrow and an amused stare. Shaking his head with a faint smile, he slowly began to stand up as quietly as possible.

 

Aware of the inevitable, stifling air that was waiting for him at home, Jack took the first step to slowly move back to the bank. In his excitement, he couldn’t have seen nor heard the little cracks in the surface of the ice formed along the surface of the lake where he’d flown across. Jack wasn’t heavy, but he wasn’t light either, and the warm winds were slowly beginning to creep towards the valley, starting to melt the snow. The ice was following suit.

 

The ice in the middle of the pond was the most vulnerable, and Jack had been on top of the ice longer than he meant to.

 

With each step he took, the more cracks began to form, striking their way towards him like bolts of lightning.

 

Slowly beginning to slink through the darkness with his rider, the dragon’s ears shot up and his pupils dilated. His rider knitted his brows in confusion when the dragon turned to look behind them.

 

“Toothless?” He whispered. “What is it--”

 

The cracks started out as small, but the further he walked, the larger they grew. The louder they became.

 

Jack froze and wide eyes looked down at the pond’s surface.

 

Cracks circled around his feet and his heel was dipping downwards.

 

Swallowing hard and his heart drumming in his ears, Jack took another cautious step.

 

_Crrrr-rick_.

 

Another spiderweb of cracks.

 

Trembling fingers gripped the staff tightly and the owner of the forest green eyes stiffened beneath the pine trees. He felt the dragon’s muscles tense under his palm.

 

This time, Jack made the even by his own standards, stupid choice of hopping towards the right, onto what he hoped was a thicker patch of ice. It didn’t crack beneath him. Giving a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxed and he smiled.

 

He didn’t hear the exhale of relief coming from the shadows.

 

Now not feeling so skittish, Jack gave a confident step forward and smiled at the thought of sitting next to the warmth of the fire. Maybe tonight, as an apology, he’d tell her the story of Manny, sitting on his throne on the moon. It’d been such a long time...

 

The sole of his foot touched against the ice--

 

And sudden cold washed over him as the ice beneath him gave way and dragged him under. The icy water swallowed his scream of alarm and the cold of the water stabbed at his skin in pinpricks.

 

He didn’t hear the sound of another voice shouting his name, nor the roar of a dragon.

 

The water had already dragged him below the surface.

 

He flailed in the water, scratching and wrenching for the surface, unable to keep his eyes open from the sheer cold of the water. He could feel the water filling his lungs, piercing through his body by his nostrils and he tried desperately to claw for the surface, bubbles of his last huffs of warm breath floating to the surface as he flailed. His nails scratched at the underbelly of the ice, but his cloak made the movement of his arms clumsy, unfocused, and difficult. His clothes clung to his body and pulled him lower down, his feet dipping into the darkness of the bottom of the pond, however deep the water was. The muscles in his fingers were growing stiffer by the second and he couldn’t even feel his toes inside his boots.

 

The water roared in his ear drums and he couldn’t feel the ripple of the water from a heavier weight jumping onto it.

 

He felt something pop in his ears and he cracked his eyes open to slits, immediately shutting them from the sting of the cold and one of his last bubbles of air floated upwards. He could barely move his fingers anymore. He couldn’t even feel the tips of them.

 

His muscles strained and strained and he desperately tried to move them, but they would not even twitched.

 

Gods.. it was so dark..

 

A blurred shadow slid across the surface of the lake.

 

_I’m scared._

 

That was Jack’s last thought before he lost consciousness.

 

He didn’t hear the splash of the water, making the water around him sway, nor did he feel a thin arm wrap around his middle. The arm pulled him upwards and the water near his feet thrust against him. The tips of his hair already began to freeze when he broke the surface of the water and he was slack in the arm’s grip when something else, something bigger, pulled him and the owner of the arm around him out of the water.

 

Jack could feel or hear anything.

 

He didn’t hear a voice desperately calling his name, full of fear, nor the hands just as cold as his trying to slap him awake when he was laid against the snow covered ground. His skin was too numb from the cold. He didn’t feel the palms on his chest pressing down, nor the water that he’d coughed out, spilling out of the corner of his mouth.

 

He couldn’t feel anything.

 

Light only began to flicker behind his eyes when a sudden warmth engulfed him, and with his teeth chattering, he opened his eyes to slits. He saw nothing but darkness. He trembled and felt something hard, but warm and smooth against his cheek.

 

How... familiar.

 

“...Big guy...?” He croaked out, his voice hoarse.

 

He heard what might’ve been a muffled sigh of relief from somewhere beyond the darkness.

 

“Oh, thank the gods...” the voice said.

 

If he could, Jack would’ve blinked. That... wasn’t the kind of voice he was expecting to hear.

 

“..But... you don’t talk.. don’t you..?” He mumbled, confused.

 

A pause.

 

He heard something rumble against him and a huff of laughter, still muffled. Jack was still confused and despite his teeth still chattering, he murmured out.

 

“..D’you.. have a cold or somethin’..”

 

“Gee, thanks,” it said, the oddly nasal sounding voice twisting with a light-hearted sarcasm. If he weren’t so freezing, Jack might’ve smiled.

 

But right now, he was so, so sleepy..

 

“ ‘m tired, big guy...”

 

“Whoa, whoa, hey, don’t fall asleep on me-- Hey, bud, lift it for me--?”

 

Another rumble (but now that he’d heard it again, he realized that it sounded oddly different, not the rumble he was used to hearing from the dragon), and Jack hissed at a sudden assault of cold on his skin, his eyes clenching shut and his legs curling into his chest to preserve whatever possible warmth he could get. Almost immediately after, something warm and thankfully dry wrapped over him, covering him from the crown of his head to his curled up legs.

 

Brown eyes cracked open, and Jack squinted his eyes to see who the voice belonged to, but just opening his eyes was a struggle and it was still so dark, he couldn’t see who it was.

 

“Just-- Just stay awake for me a little while longer, okay? I’ll get you home.”

 

Nasally as the voice was (the very thought made him want to snicker, but the noise came out more as a cough), there was a warmth in it that made the tension in his shoulders ease. Jack gave a shuddering breath before he muttered out a quiet, ‘okay.’

 

He didn’t see the owner of the voice smile in the darkness.

 

With a sudden pair of hands guiding him, he was placed onto the back of some kind of animal and felt a rumble beneath the hard, leathery skin of the beast (a dragon? The feeling of those scales didn’t feel familiar either. Another one..?) which made him feel more at ease. It reminded him of his dragon friend.

 

Jack faintly wondered where he was as his eyes remained shut, biting his bottom lip to stay awake and unable to open them again from just how tired he was, but the whip of the wind kept him from drifting into pleasant unconsciousness.

 

He heard the flap of _something_ on both sides of him, and his legs dangled on both sides of the beast. There was a moment where Jack was suddenly afraid he was about to fall, realizing that his feet were touching nothing but air, but then a pair of arms brushed against his and held onto the saddle in front of him. He felt a chest press lightly against his back, and Jack couldn’t help it, but he leaned back against it. He felt the body behind him stiffen, but whoever it was that was behind him, they didn’t move. They kept their arms locked against Jack’s, keeping him from ever possibly falling.

 

It was.. kinda nice.

 

Neither spoke.

 

Jack didn’t have the strength in him to.

 

Minutes later, his feet touched the ground and he heard a knock on wood, firm, if a little frantic, and Jack forced his eyes open to look behind him and quietly thank whoever it was that’d brought him home, only to see nothing. There’d been the sound of shuffled movement, and then nothing.

 

Brows furrowed, his thoughts and wonders were distracted when he heard the sound of feet behind the door and turned his gaze, only to flinch back at the sudden burst of light. When he squinted his eyes open, it was to the astonished expression on his mother’s face.

 

“Jack?” She breathed.

 

She took in his appearance, the blanket that was wrapped around him, the clothes that clung to his body, the pale flush of his skin, the chattering of his teeth, the frost on the tips of his wet locks of brown hair, giving his hair a white crust at the tips.

 

Horror slowly began to fill her wide-eyed gaze.

 

He forced a crooked grin.

 

“Hi, mom.”

 

At the sound of his hoarse, croaking voice, his mother gasped and with a strangled noise, wrapped her arms around her son and immediately brought him inside, to the warmth of their home, next to the fire. She shut the door behind her, and her daughter made a similar noise of horror and shock when Emma saw the drenched, freezing state of her brother.

 

His mother immediately got him out of his soaked clothes and forced him into warm, dry ones and then both mother and daughter huddled against him by the fire. His mother was whispering _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry_ into his hair as she embraced him and his hand grasped the back of her shawl tightly, burrowing his still freezing cold face into her shoulder. Emma’s arms were wrapped tight around his middle and she was shaking against him and crying into his chest. When he could move his arms again, he wrapped an arm around her, and whispered _I’m sorry_ to both his mother and his sister.

 

They fell asleep together by the fire, and all was forgiven between mother and son.

 

On the roof, Toothless blinked his green eyes and turned his head to look at his rider. His rider, who was glancing downwards, his eyes soft and swimming with a myriad of emotions, and there was a small smile on his lips.

 

The dragon gave his rider a questioning warble, and blinking, his rider turned to look at him. There was a dazed, thoughtful expression on his face before he bit his bottom lip and shook his head. Toothless gave another warble and he gave a faint grin at his dragon.

 

“It’s nothing, bud,” he murmured.

 

The dragon narrowed his eyes and rumbled a little disbelieving growl, but did not pry further.

 

His rider had been acting odd for a while now. He was slowly getting used to it.

 

The rider gave a final glance down at the roof of the house. The lines around his eyes softened and with a sigh and wry grin, he pat at the dragon’s neck. Toothless warbled in response.

 

“Let’s go home, bud.”

 

Rustled awake by the sound of something heavy scraping against their roof, Emma’s eyes cracked open and swore she saw a dark, bat-like shape ascending into the night sky.

 

\---

 

Jack was bedridden for nearly a week after almost drowning in the lake with a cold, but his mother was simply relieved that her son hadn’t come down with anything worse and didn’t scold him further than chiding him for being at the pond so late at night and alone. He’d mumbled an apology into his pillow and his mother chuckled at how clogged his nose was. She brushed his sweaty bangs back from his forehead and kissed the warm skin there before leaving the room to let him sleep.

 

Emma called him an idiot over and over again, much to Jack’s chagrin and exasperation, but he didn’t complain. He privately agreed with her, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of verbally acknowledging that she was right.

 

He didn’t have the heart to argue with her when she curled at his side and read books to him, Jack propped up against a pillow, and both of them falling asleep together.

 

When he slept, he dreamed of the darkness and complete feeling of being overpowered by the water, and then a voice calling out to him in that darkness. What followed was an all-encompassing warmth. A feeling of warmth, security and safety. That voice, nasal yet strangely pleasant and comforting to the ears, spoke to him with words he couldn’t understand and drew him out of the water and into the sky.

 

He dreamed of flying, and when he woke up, he wondered, not for the first or last time, who that voice belonged to, and who saved him that night.

 

His mother and his sister would sometimes look at him from the corner of their eyes, a question in their stares that he could not answer; who brought him home? Who saved him from the depths of that cold, cold water?

 

He didn’t know. And it infuriated Jack that he didn’t know.

 

The only thing he was certain of was that there was another dragon there, that night, but it hadn’t been his friend. No, the feel of the scales were different. Older. More worn out. He couldn’t see that well that night, but he believed that the scales were a different color. Darker. Not auburn or even red.

 

It hadn’t been his dragon.

 

He decided that once he was done being sick (and, oh, how he _hated_ being confined to his bed and his room), he would ask the dragon if there were any other dragons that lived in the woods with him. Perhaps he knew the other, darker dragon, and maybe even introduce him to the dragon so that Jack could thank it.

 

And maybe, that dragon could lead him to the owner of that voice.

 

Jack owed them, whoever they were, his gratitude. His very life.

 

Jack took the end of the blanket draped over his shoulders, rubbed the deep red fabric between his fingers and frowned. He had faint memories of the blanket being drawn over his shoulders that night, of that warmth and dryness hugging him, and the voice that gently urged him to stay awake. His mother had given the blanket an odd, thoughtful stare when she held it in her hands, her eyes narrowing over the knots and curves that wrapped around each other on the fabric in an intricate design. Some of the knots looked like beasts; wolves, falcons, even dragons.

 

It was a style, much like the dress that’d been left on her doorstep for her daughter, that was not native to these lands. But.. it was oddly familiar.

 

She could not place where, but she knew; she’d seen these before.

 

And she privately wondered if the same person who’d given them those gifts months ago was the same person who saved her son from drowning.

 

Both son and mother wanted to know.

 

(Jack would not know who saved him from drowning for another year.)

 

Weeks after Jack recovered from his cold, he would stand at the edge of the woods waiting for a sign of the dragon’s arrival, the sound of his rumbling growls, croons and warbles, or his deep green eyes. With or without his sister or the sheep, he would sit and wait for him, questions on the tip of his tongue and excitement bubbling in his chest.

 

And every day, he would wait, and the dragon would not come.

 

A month passed before Jack realized that the dragon wasn’t coming back.

 

Emma was heartbroken when months passed and there was no sign of the dragon, and when she was with her brother, she showed it openly. She would ask out loud, expecting no answer, where he’d gone, if something happened, or if the worst had occurred. Jack could give her no answer, and he kept his face as neutral as possible when she asked these questions, questions he himself had, but knew that he could no longer get answers to.

 

He didn’t want to show his own heartbreak over the dragon not being there, and when the only answer she received to her questions were single words, non-committal noises and mantras of ‘I don’t know’ from her brother, Emma learned to stop asking.

 

When the snow melted and green blades of grass sprouted through the clumps of white, stained brown from the mud, Jack sat on the roof and looked towards the moon, curved sliver of white beaming through the sky. He searched one last time through the skies, seeking out a single flash of auburn and red. He saw nothing, and he climbed off the roof and went to bed.

 

He stopped waiting at the edge of the woods.

 

Life went on.

 

Jack and his mother had a long talk when the rain of spring came, and the drops of rain tapped heavily against their roof as mother and son came to a compromise. Jack agreed that he would start going into the village more and start shadowing potential apprentice masters, and his mother agreed to let him choose whether or not he wanted to take an apprenticeship in the village, another village, or stay home and create his own craft and income from home. She gave him a year, and he agreed to her terms.

 

And that’s exactly what he did. He shadowed the baker, the tradesmen (a man named Johann whose tales and stories from abroad were fascinating but overly long and exhausting to listen to), other sellers and craftsmen, and the school master. Of all of the professions he’d been allowed to shadow, the job of the school master was the one that interested him the most.

 

Jack loved children, and they adored him.

 

When they took breaks for lunch and for studying, he would fill their bored silence with stories, tales, silly faces and little games for them to play so that they didn’t get worn down. Having helped raise his sister, taking care of the children came naturally to him, and he had a charisma about him that drew the children to him. They thought he was fun, always joking and telling stories, and what he loved most was to see their smiles of delight as they played or listened to his storytelling.

 

There was a reluctance to leave home still, and he did not want to leave his mother or his sister alone in that house, especially not his mother, but.. perhaps his mother had a point.

 

Not that he would ever tell her that.

 

Life went on, and he put memories of warm, auburn scales and a mysterious voice behind him, as much as he could.

 

But to say that there weren’t days where his mind wandered to days of hanging onto the dragon’s back as they swam, of that voice calling his name, or nights where he would dream of those thin but strong arms keeping him in place and a chest against his back as the wind whipped through his hair, would be a lie.

 

He missed the dragon, but he wasn’t coming back. He would never know who his savior that night was. He knew that. And, while not content with that knowledge, he could live with it.

 

Life would continue, and so would he.

 

\---

 

The snow was already to his shins.

 

The helmet kept his face safe from the cold winds that raged, bringing an onslaught of snow to the ground. His leather flying suit kept him warm and he blinked the snow out of his green eyes. Toxic green looked at him and the dragon at his side warbled. He looked at his dragon and his eyes crinkled as he smiled behind the helmet. He turned to look back over the horizon, heard the waves crashing against the black cliffs, and the winds howling as they rushed by.

 

Closing his eyes, the young man took a deep breath and exhaled, his fingers twitching and twiddling with the onset of frayed nerves.

 

Toothless nudged at the side of his face with his snout and he raised a hand to rub at the underside of the his jaw, making the dragon croon happily.

 

He stared out into the darkness and felt his heartbeat accelerating.

 

Underneath the roar of the winter winds, he heard the sound of two pairs of feet crunching in the snow. A woman with braided blonde hair and sky blue eyes stood beside him. Her jaw was set tight but her eyes were kind and concerned. Another young man, bigger, rounder, and strong, with pale blonde hair and watery blue eyes looked at him with nervousness.

 

_Yeah, me too, Fishlegs_ , he thought dryly.

 

Gods, his stomach was already summersaulting and it felt like his heart was in his throat.

 

How in Thor’s name was he gonna be able to do this?

 

The woman beside him cleared her throat and he glanced at her. Her expression was set and her eyes looked up at him, utterly serious as she asked, “Are you sure about this?”

 

Ask that to his churning stomach instead.

 

Instead, he gave a shrug, far too casual for the situation at hand. “‘Bout as sure as I could ever be. It’s not like I’ve got that many options left.”

 

A frown fell heavily on her lips and her brows lowered as she gave him a pointed look. He pretended not to see it.

 

Fishlegs shuffled on his feet and gave him a side-glance. “Do.. Do you think he’ll agree to come?”

 

Silence.

 

The wind continued to howl.

 

Then, a murmur, uncertain and afraid.

 

“...I don’t know, Fishlegs.”

 

Neither said anything and Toothless looked at his rider and gave him a reassuring warble, pressing against his rider’s side. The rider could only sigh and run his palm down the dragon’s spine.

 

“I guess.. we’ll just have to find out.”

 

A hand, strong and firm, squeezed his shoulder. The young woman gave him a smile that she hoped would reassure him, betraying none of her own doubts and worries.

 

“Then let’s get going. Lead the way, your highness.”

 

She grinned at the sound of a derisive snort, muffled behind the helmet, and at the roll of deep green eyes.

 

Within minutes, three winged beasts gave a mighty roar as they pushed off of the cliffside and shot into the dark sky of the winter night.

 

\---

 

A light snow was falling to the ground, a candle was lit and placed on the windowsill, and it was Jack’s eighteenth birthday.

 

It was a quiet night, spent with his mother and his sister as always, and his mother made his favorite meal with some salted pork and potatoes that Johann had brought over from distant lands, served with a stew, and then she gave him a modest cake covered in cream and dotted with fresh fruits she bought in the marketplace. Emma’s gift for her brother was a deep blue scarf she’d knitted herself, patterned with frost ferns on the ends, and his mother’s gift for him was a brass compass.

 

He stared down at the metal object in amazement and his mother smiled, winked and told him that she’d bartered Johann for it. They’d luckily come into money because of the sheep and their wool, so she wanted to give him an exquisite gift for his eighteenth birthday, something that he could both admire and use.

 

Something in her gut told her that her son would take need of it someday.

 

Both Emma and Jack gaped at the compass when he pressed down on the button to open it, and he held the contraption up in his palm. He stood and watched as the arrow on the compass wavered, deciding the direction it was to go. The arrow landed on west.

 

A wide grin on his lips, he lowered the compass and put it in his pocket, and then he walked over to his mother, taking her by surprise when he suddenly embraced her. She blinked, and then she smiled warmly and pat at his soft brown hair. She had to reach up to do so.

 

Gods, he was so tall now.

 

At age eighteen, he was already taller than her by several inches. And he still had yet to go. If he kept this up, he was going to be as tall as his father.

 

A painful thought, but she was so very proud of her son. So proud to have seen him grow this much. Seeing him leave home one day, whenever that may be, was going to be painful. But she would still be so proud of him.

 

They pulled away from each other and ate cake at the table until the sun had long set over the mountains, the wick of the candle growing shorter and shorter. Jack showed off the scarf Emma made him, wrapping it around his neck and walking around with it on, and complimented his sister on a job well done. She preened at the praise, and he poked her nose and laughed for it. Their mother drank tea and smiled into her cup at her children’s antics.

 

At the end of the night, their mother made hot chocolate for them both. It was Jack’s favorite drink, and she added an extra bit of chocolate on top for him. Chocolate was an expensive rarity, but she thought it was well worth the money to see Jack’s delighted smile and hear Emma point and laugh at her brother at the white mustache from the cream on his upper lip.

 

When they finished, Jack and his mother washed the dishes together and he embraced both his sister and his mother at once, thanking them both for their gifts and treats. His smile was stretched so wide on his face it was beginning to hurt. Once the dishes were done, all three began cleaning the main room in preparation for bed. Their mother put away her cooking dishes and tools, cleaning the bulk of the kitchen, Jack swept the floors and beat the rug outside and Emma put out the candles in the windows. The fireplace was left lit, though Emma and Jack both checked to make sure it was low, just enough to keep their house warm.

 

Upon finishing, the family of three said their goodnights and made to separate to their own bedrooms--

 

When a knocking sound came from the door.

 

Brows furrowed, Jack twisted around to look at their front door. He glanced down at Emma and saw an equally quizzical stare.

 

_Knock knock._

 

Their mother’s eyes narrowed and her hand slowly lowered from the doorknob to her bedroom. She turned to look at Jack.

 

“Did you invite someone here to visit?”

 

Baffled, Jack shook his head and shrugged.

 

“Like who? It’s not like I bring people home with me, I have no idea who that could be.”

 

He barely knew anyone his age in the village anyway. It wasn’t like he had many friends aside from the village children and his sister. And..

 

Well, that was in the past.

 

“Do they not know how late it is..” Emma muttered under her breath, annoyed. Jack snorted.

 

_Knock knock._

 

It was a miracle that their mother didn’t roll her eyes. Instead, she only gave a tired, long-suffering sigh, pinched the bridge of her nose and walked towards the door.

 

“I suppose I’ll get it.”

 

She’d love to give a piece of her mind to the fool who thought that this was an appropriate time to come visit their home. Emma and Jack watched with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

 

A stern expression on her face, she opened the door, fully prepared to tell whoever was on the other side of the door to go home and leave them be for the night. Her stern expression fell into one of confusion and befuddlement when the open door revealed a tall, robust young man with pale blonde hair, a thin beard beginning to grow in, and watery blue eyes. He was dressed in furs from his shoulders to his boots, an oddity in these parts. Furs so thick were meant for regions far north and far colder. He was also wearing leather and thick fabric. He gave her a nervous looking smile and she could only stare back at him.

 

Jack and Emma had no idea who he was, either. They’d never seen him before.

 

The young man cleared his throat. “Are you, uh, Katherine Overland?”

 

Her shoulders stiffened. “And if I am?” She responded cooly, betraying none of her alarm at this stranger somehow knowing her name.

 

His smile only seemed to spread and grow a little more confident. He straightened up. “My name’s Fritjof Ingermann, though you can call me Fishlegs-”

 

Jack smothered a snort and Emma gave him a side-eyed stare of reprimand.

 

“--And I’m here to talk about your son, Jackson Overland--”

 

He stiffened, his shoulders going rigid and Emma grasped his hand in an iron grip.

 

Katherine’s gray eyes flashed dangerously and Fishlegs couldn’t help but be unnerved by the steel in her gaze.

 

“What _about_ my son interests you so?” She interjected.

 

Fishlegs blinked, staring at her with some caution before he straightened up again, trying to maintain his composure. He cleared his throat once more.

 

“I’d like to invite him to join myself and one of my companions to come home with us, on behalf of Prince Håkon Horrendous Haddock, Heir to the Kingdom of Berk.”  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was almost 23k words long. never again.
> 
> it got so long to the point that i thought about just splitting it up into smaller chapters but i felt like it needed to all be together in one chapter. a small note: Hiccup's dragon form isn't based on any existing species from the movies or the books (except maybe bits of a Timberjack, but that was unintentional, whoops).
> 
> the next oncoming chapters will not be NEARLY this long i swear but i really needed to get to this point in the story. and so the plot gets kicking WOOHOO
> 
> and thank you all so much for the praise, oh my goodness, i'm honestly left stunned speechless. i'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story. thank you so much!!


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two warriors from a land believed to no longer exist knock on his door, a proposal is made, and Jack must come to a decision.

 

The hinges on the door shrieked as Katherine tried to slam the door in Fishlegs’s face.

 

It was due to his quick thinking that the wooden door didn’t slam into his face and break his nose. Fishlegs pushed his large palm against the door and bent his knees to stay in place and not be pushed back wards. “WAIT WAIT _WAIT_ \-- Ma’am, please just-- just _hear us out_ -!” He squeaked out.

 

“ _Do you take me for some kind of fool?_ ” Katherine hissed, taking her children aback by the sheer steel and ferocity behind her teeth. She only pushed harder against the door, trying to force it shut. “A prince of _Berk_? You know as well as I do that the Berkians and its royal family have long since disappeared! Berk doesn’t exist anymore!”

 

The nails in the hinges strained underneath the force of two people pushing the door back and forth. Sweat began to form on Fishlegs’s brow. “I swear, we **are** from Berk! Our prince told us to come find you and your son! _I can prove it--!_ ”

 

“Berk is nothing but a child’s tale now,” Katherine bit out, her gray eyes blazing. “They’ve been gone for decades! How can you prove that it still exists and that this isn’t some ruse to get your _filthy hands on_ ** _my son_** -”

 

“If you’d just give me five minutes of your time I can explain everything and prove it--!” Fishlegs whimpered. He’d be impressed by the woman’s strength if he weren’t so busy trying to keep her from shutting them out or closing the door right on his fingers.

 

Protective mothers were fierce and terrifying creatures.

 

Jack had never seen his mother like this before. He could only gape at her in baffled amazement, more than a bit impressed, if intimidated. The words shouted between the young man and his mother buzzed between his ears and he blinked rapidly, trying to put it all together.

 

They came from _Berk_? Berk still existed? They wanted **him** to join them on the journey back to Berk?

 

Their prince asked for him?

 

_Why?_

 

_“_ Oh, I’m _sure_ ,” Katherine snapped. “I’ll just allow some strangers whom I’ve never met come into my house and try to take my son away, _who do you think you are-_ ”

 

Another hand pressed against the door and pushed and Katherine stumbled back at the sheer force of it, her nostrils flaring and her eyes narrowing. Her grip on the doorknob was white-knuckled and she met a pair of incensed sky blue eyes, hard and firm, with a glare.

 

She was young, perhaps in her late teens or early twenties, and she had white-blonde hair pulled into a tight braid that hung over her shoulder. Some of her bangs fell into her left eye, and she was about as tall as Katherine was. She was wearing armor and furs, metal with spikes on her shoulder pads and the belt she wore. Katherine was reminded of the bird-women, swords, axes and shields in hand as they cut through flesh and took only the worthy and the bravest to the land of the undying.

 

The young woman cleared her throat and stood her ground.

 

“We don’t mean to intrude, ma’am, and we won’t come in if you prefer us not to, but at least take this as proof that we Berkians, do indeed, exist.” Her tone became a bit sardonic at the end, but her voice was calm and collected. She held out a scroll held together by a single red ribbon to the older woman.

 

Katherine narrowed her eyes down at it and then glared up at the young woman in suspicion. A ghost of a smile curled on the mysterious woman’s lips and Fishlegs hid behind her.

 

(The sight of which would’ve been hilarious to Jack in any other situation because the man was huge and bulky in comparison to the much shorter young woman, but Fishlegs looked so meek despite his size and the blonde woman looked like she could summon an axe out of thin air just by the sheer ferocity of her expression.)

 

Katherine and the young woman stared at each other with steel coolness, and Katherine’s gaze did not shake nor waver as the scroll slid into her hand. It fit neatly between her fingers, and the paper crinkled underneath her grip, tight.

 

The young woman only smiled. “Please, ma’am, look at the seal.”

 

Katherine only stared at her, her brows set and her jaw locked. She turned the scroll in her hand and slowly looked down at it. The door was left open and Jack was beginning to feel the chill of the light winter breeze. The young woman and Fishlegs didn’t seem to be much affected by the cold, and simply watched as his mother looked down at the scroll.

 

Jack was sure that his mother was going to throw the scroll back into the young woman’s face, and by the muscle twitch in her jaw, he could see that she almost did. But instead of doing just that, she looked down at the red wax seal on the scroll, her eyes widened, and Jack heard his mother gasp sharply. The skin on the back of his neck prickled and Emma could only hold her brother’s hand and look at her mother with confused, furrowed eyebrows.

 

A grin was stretching on the young woman’s lips.

 

Katherine gaped down at the wax seal and staggered back several steps. The seal was made out of a red wax, and imprinted on the wax was a red skull with horns. The same horns found on the helmets of Berkians that’d been left adrift and landed on far shores. But there was more; the red skull with horns was encased in the tail of a dragon, sleek, sharp, reminding Katherine of a great bat.

 

She remembered the red skull with horns. She didn’t remember the dragon.

 

Her face had grown pale and Jack licked his bottom lip anxiously. “Mom..?” He breathed.

 

At the sound of her son’s voice, she started and she closed her eyes. Katherine sucked in a breath and exhaled, her thumb pressing down on the thick, yellowed parchment. She opened her eyes again and found herself not minutely aggravated by the smugness and pride in the young blonde woman’s grin and eyes.

 

“Do you believe us now?” She asked, a half-smirk curled on her lips.

 

Katherine didn’t answer.

 

Jack could only gape, his mouth parting in shock. “Wait, wait.. Berk really **is** real? It still exists?” He blurted out.

 

His mother’s shoulders stiffened. The young woman and Fishlegs’s gaze drifted over to him, as if they’d just noticed him for the first time and Jack felt unnerved by the analytical glint in the taller young man’s stare, as if Fishlegs were studying him as if he was some newfound species of butterfly or moth. The young woman seemed intrigued, and she was studying him to, her hand holding her chin, and she tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. A smile curled on his lips and she gave a short nod to herself, as if in approval.

 

Approval for _what_ , he wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t sure he liked it either.

 

His mother still wasn’t answering him, though. “Mom?” He asked again, brows furrowed.

 

Katherine gave a shuddering exhale. “..It would seem so, Jack,” she said, unable to look at him. Her eyes were transfixed on the seal. But the young woman was still looking at her expectantly. Katherine raised her head to look at her. She stared, and then she sighed. “I believe you.”

 

Fishlegs wiped his forehead in relief and the tension in the young woman’s armored covered shoulders relaxed.

 

Jack gaped at his mother in utter shock.

 

“You still need to open it,” the young woman said.

 

Katherine frowned down at the scroll, making a noise in the back of her throat in agreement. Her brows were knitting together. She turned to look at her son and Jack met her gray eyes, the uncertainty and suspicion clear on his face.

 

Her face softened. “Jack, you don’t have to listen to this.”

 

His jaw locked tight and his brown eyes flashed, even as he swallowed hard. “If it’s about me and this... uh, Prince Hack guy-”

 

“Håkon-” Fishlegs interjected.

 

“Yeah, him,” Jack said dismissively to Fishlegs, not paying attention. “Then shouldn’t I be there to read this.. thing, whatever it is?” Letting go of his sister’s hand, he crossed his arms across his chest to make himself look and feel composed and calm. His heart was drumming fast and frantic in his chest.

 

What would a prince of a kingdom that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore want with him anyway?

 

Katherine pressed her lips in a firm line and fiddled with the scroll between her hands. “Jack--” She sighed.

 

“Um, excuse me, ma’am?” Fishlegs asked meekly, holding up a hand.

 

Two pairs of eyes, one brown, the other gray, glared at him with ferocity and he almost squeaked. The young woman hid a snort of laughter behind a clearing of the throat, hiding the upward quirk behind her hand.

 

“What, sir?” Katherine said, her tone cool.

 

“May, we, ah, come in? It is kind of a lot to take in, and we have a lot to talk about, soooo...” Fishlegs tried for a small smile to ease the mood. Katherine did not seem to be swayed much, given by the flat line of her mouth.

 

Katherine glanced between the two young Berkians and her two children, lingering on her confused and thrown-off son. The lines of her crows feet softened and she sighed. She glanced at the two strangers and beckoned them inside with a gesture of the hand, already walking towards the table.

 

“Sit down. And please, shut the door behind you, it’s quite cold out.”

 

Fishlegs and the young woman shared a look at that last bit, as if sharing a private joke between themselves, and the young woman shot a grin outside into the darkness. Something that only Emma caught, and she narrowed her eyes and looked out the window, squinting.

 

She thought she saw something dark and large moving outside their window.

 

But the two young Berkians did just that, Fishlegs coming in first, and the young woman second. As they walked in, the young woman introduced herself as Astrid Hofferson and offered Katherine a kinder smile that earned a somber frown from the older woman. Katherine took a candle from the cupboard and a match, and lit it, placing it on the middle of the table. She turned towards her two children.

 

“Emma, you may go to bed. Jack, if you’re going to sit down and read this, please, sit next to me.”

 

Emma and Jack looked at each other then back at their mother, frowns on their lips. Jack slid his hand from his sister’s grasp and slowly walked towards the table, taking a sit next to his mother. She laid the scroll on the table and rested her hand on top of Jack’s, grasping it in her own. Emma made to protest at being banished to bed, but a single hard look from her mother and a firm call of her name kept her from arguing with her mother. Jack looked as his sister and gave her an encouraging smile, mouthing to her that he would see her latter.

 

Her fists clenched at her sides, but she said ‘yes, mom,’ and retreated to her room. Once the door was shut enough, she listened next to the keyhole, curled up on the floor.

 

Jack’s brown eyes flickered between the two Berkians, the unopened scroll, and his mother, lips pursing together. Katherine rubbed her thumb against his knuckles and the touch was a mild comfort for his confused nerves.

 

A minute of awkward silence passed. No one spoke except the wind.

 

Astrid glanced back at the still unopened scroll and, finished with the stalling, cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the mother and son. She brought her attention to the reason she and Fishlegs were here, and looked at Jack, drawing his attention, and she gave him a small smile.

 

“I never answered your question earlier, sorry about that. But trust me, we still do indeed exist. We’ve just, stayed out of sight for the past few decades.”

 

Katherine’s frown deepened and her brows knit, but Jack’s attention was on Astrid, looking at her with curiosity, caution, and fascination. He looked down at the scroll.

 

_I thought they were only children’s stories_..., he thought.

 

Even now, the universe seemed to have a knack for surprising him.

 

Fishlegs folded his arms on the table and pushed the scroll back towards the mother and son pair. His smile was kind.

 

“I know you must be pretty confused, but this should give you a better idea of why we’re here.”

 

Jack bit his bottom lip as he looked down at the scroll. He gazed at it, then looked at his mother, who was still frowning. They stared at each other in silence for several seconds, then she gave a wordless nod. Drawing his hand away from hers, with slightly shaking hands, he grasped the thick parchment and twisted it over, his eyes falling upon the wax seal. His brows rose in fascination, then felt a clenching in his chest at the dragon indented into the wax seal, its tail curled around a red skull with horns.

 

Gently, he ran a thumb over the seal, looking down at it in utter fascination and let it linger and press against the surface of the seal, and then with a shaky exhale, slid his thumb underneath the seal. The parchment released itself from the other side of the paper, and with his hands still trembling with a sudden nervousness, he opened the scroll and laid it against the table. The candlelight flickered and shadows and beams of light danced on the paper.

 

Brown eyes squinted down at the ink scrawl on the page and drew the candle closer to him so that he could see the words better. Silently, his brown eyes scanned and drank them in, and his eyes slowly began to widen, his mouth parting in shock. Under the candlelight, he felt his face flush and a pale red spread along the back of his neck.

 

Katherine’s brows knit together and she laid a hand on his elbow, frowning. “Jackson?” She murmured. “What does it say?”

 

Two pairs of blue eyes watched him carefully and with faint amusement as he pushed the parchment towards his mother. Jack pressed a hand to his mouth and looked out the window, and tried to think of the cold winds pressing gently against the wooden beams of their home. _Anything_ to keep his face from flushing too much. It already felt hot enough. Gods, he could feel it creeping onto his neck..

 

His mother raised an eyebrow at her son, suspicious, and then looked down at the parchment and read. Just like her son, she mimicked the same wide-eyed expression as Jack. Unable to look away from the parchment, she slowly began to read it out loud, much to her son’s mortification.

 

“ _To Jack Overland, the eldest son of the Overland family,-_ ”

 

_Only son, actually_ , Jack thought dryly.

 

“ _While I’m sure that this may come as a bit of a shock, please, don’t be alarmed or afraid. That is not my intention with this letter. I am writing this letter to ask for your hand-_ ”

 

Jack felt a shiver on the back of his neck and he knew that his mother was looking at him with her wide gray eyes, and turned his face away further. He could feel is face burning as thousands of questions rattled his mind.

 

“ _-for you have captured my heart and my soul._ ”

 

Jack felt a strangled noise forming in the back of his throat.

 

Katherine looked at the parchment in open mouthed shock, then looked at her son.

 

Emma, from behind the door, smothered a sharp gasp from behind her hands.

 

Astrid and Fishlegs shared a look of amusement and Astrid bit back a small snigger.

 

Outside, in the midst of the cold and the snow and protected by the darkness, where no one could see his face, the icy winds melted against the heat of his cheeks as he buried his face in hands and groaned loudly. He muttered ‘why did I even **write** that, _gods_ ’ under his breath and groaned even louder when Toothless whuffed into his ear, agreeing with his rider.

 

The rider tapped his dragon on the nose, chiding him.

 

“ _You are in no rush to decide. Should you say no, then I will leave you and your family in peace and I will not disturb nor trouble you again. Should you say yes, my companions Astrid and Fritjof shall accompany and lead you to Berk, and I will pay a monthly sum so that your family can live comfortably and in peace._

 

_Please, take your time in deciding. I hope to hear from you, soon._

 

_Håkon Horrendous Haddock the Third of Berk._ ”

 

A stunned silence fell over the household.

 

The paper of the parchment crinkled loudly as Katherine folded the scroll back into place, and blinked hard into the candlelight. Astrid was reclining against her chair, looking amused at how obviously red Jack was and Fishlegs was trying to hide a smile.

 

They both knew that no matter Jack’s answer, their prince would still make sure that Jack and his family were provided for so that they could leave in comfort and little worry. He was just like that.

 

_Disgustingly smitten like that_ , Astrid thought to herself.

 

Katherine blinked again and then she cleared her throat. Her hands folded on the table surface and they twiddled as she tried to collect and rearrange her mess of thoughts. Her tone was light when she spoke, betraying none of the confusion and amazement she was feeling.

 

“...You never said that you’d met a prince.”

 

Jack’s cheeks were a bright red. “I didn’t!” He yelped. “I haven’t! I mean-- I don’t _think_ I have-- I’ve never even heard of this guy before in my life!”

 

He missed the knowing glances that the two Berkians shot each other.

 

Jack’s hands flailed in frantic gestures as he tried to collect his mess of thoughts and put them into words that were at least somewhat intelligible.

 

“I didn’t even know that Berk still existed, how could I have met with this prince guy!?” His voice was raising higher and higher, as was his voice’s pitch. Then, it lowered. “I’ve never heard of this guy before and now he’s asking me-- asking me to, uh--”

 

His face a deep shade of red, he mumbled the rest out, feeling his mother’s gaze on his face.

 

_He’s asking me to_ ** _marry_** _him_.

 

He couldn’t say it.

 

He picked at the worn edges of the table and missed how Fishlegs and Astrid shared a mutual secretive smile. There was a faint buzzing in his ears as what he’d just read and heard his mother read out loud sank in; Berk was real, two Berkians were right in front of him across the table, and a prince, whom he’d never met, was asking for his hand in marriage. Marriage, of all things!

 

How could he marry someone that he’d never even met?

 

And the prince didn’t even have the decency to ask him for his hand in person. For such an important thing, shouldn’t he be here, too? Shouldn’t _he_ be the one asking him for Jack’s hand? In person and not in letter form?

 

An stunned expression was on Katherine’s face, and her gaze flickered towards the candle sitting in the middle of the table. She folded her hands on the table and drummed her fingers against her knuckles. She, herself, was at a loss at what to say.

 

The silence was sweltering in spite of the cold outside the walls of the household, thick enough to cut with a knife, and Fishlegs gave Astrid a cautious look before he cleared his throat. Two pairs of eyes flickered towards him in an instant, intense and frantic, and he had to steel himself. But as he stared back at the mother and son pair, he softened and a small smile was curling on his lips, sympathetic.

 

“I know that this may come as a bit of a shock, since we’re a pretty reclusive people, but I assure you, this isn’t some kind of joke or a prank.” He said it kindly and Katherine peered at him with caustic curiosity.

 

Astrid chimed in, looking at Jack who returned her stare with a wary one of his own. “You don’t need to answer right away, take the time you need to decide. We’ll wait for your answer and so will he.” A grin curled on her lips. “He’s a patient man, he’ll understand.”

 

(Anxiety stricken as he is right now, huddled against Toothless for warmth from the cold and going over every single thing he’d written in that letter and wanting to kick himself for it and perhaps die a little. Just a little.)

 

Jack looked away from her and she could see the flush on his face and the stubborn set of his jaw. His brows furrowed into a glare and then he waspishly sounded out, “Why didn’t this.. Prince Håkon just come here and ask me himself?”

 

The grin fell off of her lips and an uneasy silence fell over the kitchen.

 

Astrid’s lips fell into a firm line and with a frown, Katherine placed a hand on Jack’s upper arm. “Jack, really, don’t be rude--”

 

Shaking her head, Astrid raised a hand. “It’s all right, Mrs. Overland. We understand, it’s a lot to take in all at once.” Her blue eyes open and the color reminded Jack of an open winter sky, beautiful when the clouds were faint but fierce in its coldness and its strength.

 

Jack swallowed and met her stare with a hard one of his own. The lines around her eyes relaxed.

 

“...If he could, he _would_ be here, I can assure you of that. He would’ve much rather asked you himself, but he’s been preoccupied. Princely duties, you know.” She gave a shrug of her shoulder and smiled.

 

It wasn’t a lie.

 

She just couldn’t specify why and how he was so preoccupied and why he couldn’t be there.

 

Jack’s brows furrowed together further and his eyes narrowed a little, but he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. He wasn’t fully satisfied with that answer, having more than a few words to this prince who apparently didn’t have the guts to ask him himself, but the look on Astrid’s face, the apology in it.. well, he could deal with it, for now.

 

The feeling of his mother’s hand squeezing his bicep was a comfort to his frazzled and confused nerves.

 

Fishlegs and Astrid glanced at each other, murmured a short conversation under their breaths that Jack couldn’t hear, no matter how much he strained his hearing, and then, having come to some kind of decision, the legs of the chairs groaned against the floor as the pair stood up. They pushed the chairs back into place and took a few steps back.

 

Fishlegs gave a small bow and an apologetic smile to the mother and son. “We’re very sorry for intruding and disturbing you so late in the evening, we just wanted to make sure that you got this letter. Thought it better to deliver it by hand.”

 

Astrid gave a nod of affirmation as Fishlegs moved towards the door, the doorknob twisting open as she gave a quick, professional smile to Katherine. Her eyes fell on Jack, making him stiffen, and she studied him for a moment before inclining her head towards him, dipping her chin down to her chest into a nod.

 

“We’ll be here for about a week, if you come to a decision by the end of the week, we’ll be at the edge of the woods. Come find us then. If you need longer to decide, you are free to do so, but we won’t be here. Send us a letter by crow, we’ll get it.”

 

A beat.

 

“...Just let us know by the end of the week.”

 

With a final nod of acknowledgement, Fishlegs and Astrid walked out the door and into the darkness of the light snow drifting to the ground. The door shut heavily with a firm click that echoed and bounced against the walls. The only noise left was the fire crackling in the fireplace, low and warm, and the wind creaking against the wood and the glass windows.

 

Biting her lip, Katherine looked at her son and frowned at the sight of his confused glare burning into the surface of the table. Her grip on her son’s upper arm tightened and she rubbed her thumb in circles against his bicep.

 

She hesitated before beginning slowly, “Jack.. It’s as they said, you don’t need to give an answer right away. You have the time to decide.”

 

He didn’t answer her. He only glared harder at the table and his fingers twiddled with each other and twitched. He dragged the tips of his fingers against the wood.

 

Katherine held back a sigh and leaned in to kiss at the side of her son’s forehead. She felt the wrinkles in his brows relax and him slacken against the chair.

 

“Get some sleep, Jack.”

 

“..Yeah, mom,” he whispered, his eyes distant and lost in his flood of thoughts. A somber smile grew on Katherine’s lips and she ran a hand through his hair. Jack’s hand clenched and unclenched and he bit his lower lip.

 

“..I’m, gonna stay up for a little while longer, and then I’ll go to bed, I promise.” He looked at his mom, his brows creased together in a plea. “I just.. need to think. Be alone for a bit,” he said quietly.

 

Katherine only nodded and pecked a kiss on his temple before getting up from her chair. She gave his shoulder a squeeze and bid him goodnight. The door to his mother’s room clicked shut and Jack was left in the silence of the kitchen and the main room with nothing except the parchment, the candle, and the snow falling to ground outside for company.

 

“...Prince Håkon, huh?”

 

\---

 

Picking at the fire with a stick, bored yet anxious green eyes stared into the flames and the glowing red logs of wood that crackled and spit with each poke. Every now and then, he stroked at Toothless’ neck and drew his cloak further to himself. The warmth from the fire sank into the metal and leather of his helmet and kept his face warm, the dragon’s body, pressed against his back, keeping the rest of his warm and secure against the light wind. The winter winds here in the south were calmer now, much more than the winds he’d flown off in.

 

Lowering the stick, his hand moved to his neck and he dragged his fingers against the side of it, lost and mulling in his own thoughts and memories as he stared unblinking into the fire.

 

He heard footsteps coming towards the campsite they’d set up, the telltale sound of boots crunching against the snow and the branches and twigs snapping under their feet made him look up. The two other sleeping dragons sitting about the fire cracked their eyes open, yellow and gleaming, and the bigger of the two, with a long, pointed tail with spikes laid flat on her tale, gave a little warble of greeting to her rider before closing her eyes again.

 

Astrid and Fishlegs greeted their dragons first, Astrid with a softer smile on her lips as she rubbed beneath her dragon’s horn and Fishlegs cooed and hugged around the neck of his dragon, a portly, muscular dragon with a clubbed tail and warts and bumps on her back, who warbled in greeting and licked at his face before going back to sleep. He sat up straight and pressed his lips together in nervousness as they came to sit down across from him, warming their hands.

 

He fiddled with his own. “So, um.” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, for once relieved to have the helmet on his face. It kept the flush on his cheeks from being open for all to see. “How did he,” he gestured vaguely with his hands, making Astrid snort. “Take it?”

 

Astrid and Fishlegs glanced at each other, and she leaned back against the log to let Fishlegs do the talking. He gave the other male a kind smile, “Well.. he was pretty shocked, which is understandable. Had a hard time believing that we even still existed, took a bit to convince him and his mother.”

 

At the recent memory of the woman with fierce, steel gray eyes, Fishlegs gave a small shudder. Astrid huffed a laugh, and the man in the helmet scratched at the back of his head.

 

_Yeah, should’ve expected that_ , he thought sarcastically.

 

“Well.. I guess that means that we’ve hid ourselves really well the past few decades, if you had to convince him that it wasn’t some kind of prank.”

 

Astrid smirked. “Convincing his mother was way more difficult than _he_ was. It was pretty funny, actually.”

 

“She almost broke my nose!” Fishlegs moaned.

 

She just grinned. “I like her.”

 

“She tried to slam the door in my _face_!”

 

Green eyes rolled in exasperation at the one-sided bickering. “Okay, yeah, I get it, his mom is scary, we all know that.”

 

He knew that quite well. Jack told him plenty about what his mother was like, when she was happy, when she was sad, and when she was stern and angry. The memory made him smile behind the helmet. It fell when he asked his next question.

 

“Do you..” he started quietly. He paused.

 

Both of his companions and friends looked up at him. They sobered at the vulnerable green eyes looking at them. They could see his brows furrowing together behind the leather of the helmet.

 

“...Do you think he’ll say yes?” He asked, practically a whisper.

 

Toxic green eyes slit open and Toothless curled his tail closer to his rider.

 

Astrid’s jaw set in thought and Fishlegs pursed his lips and looked away, unable to look him in the eyes. Their reactions did nothing to soothe his nerves. Neither said a word, and a cold sinking feeling was settling in the pit of his stomach. Something in him, in his chest, began to crack a little.

 

He felt a low rumble against his back, and Toothless settled his head in his rider’s lap, looking up at him with worried bottle green eyes.

 

It was Astrid who spoke at last, and her voice was a murmur on the light calls of the wind.

 

“...I don’t know.”

 

None of the three Berkians said a word aside from a mumble of goodnight. Astrid and Fishlegs returned to their tents and went to sleep, their dragons guarding the entrances at each as they slept. Only Toothless’s rider was awake, and when the other two were awake, he took off his helmet and breathed in the crisp air. He looked into the darkness of the night sky and blinked the thick snowflakes out of his eyes. Toothless warbled at him and he gave his dragon a faint smile, small and a bit sad, but sincere, and he scratched underneath the dragon’s chin.

 

The dragon purred into the night and the rider watched for the fall of the moon, hidden behind the clouds full of snow. The rider sighed; it was going to be a long night, and he would find no rest.

 

He would find no rest, nor comfort, until he had some kind of answer.

 

_You only have less than a year left_ , his father told him, the gray strands in his thick red beard more evident than ever, _I hope you know what you’re doing with this boy_. The wrinkles around his eyes were thicker and longer than he last remembered, and his father’s hands were heavy and warm on his thin shoulders. 

 

_Use that time you have left well, son. I am_ ** _not_** _handing you over to them_.

 

His father was too proud to say ‘please,’ but he could see it in his father’s blue green eyes. He felt it in the way his mother cupped his covered cheek, wishing she could touch the skin beneath the leather and metal.

 

His eyes closed and he thought of cool hands on his neck, on his sides, and a firm body against his chest.

 

He thought of a laugh full of joy, deviousness and mirth.

 

He thought of warm brown eyes that crinkled in a smile as thin pale lips stretched wide into a grin.

 

When the sun rose, Astrid and Fishlegs came out of their tents to find four dragons sleeping around the makeshift campfire, the flames burning low and dying.

 

\---

 

Jack was quiet.

 

That was more than enough for Katherine and Emma to be worried about him.

 

They were used to having Jack’s chatter, his silly jokes and quips filling the silence of their old home, and Katherine would smile at the sound of children bickering, shooting deadpan retorts at each other and filling the kitchen with their laughter. But the day after, finding Jack fast asleep with his head in his arms on the table, Jack barely said a word unless he was spoken to. Even then, his responses were short, to the point, and he didn’t linger. That day, after a breakfast that Jack only picked at and stared into, she told Emma to watch the sheep, and that’s exactly what Emma did, without so much as a complaint.

 

Emma hated watching the sheep, finding it the most boring, menial task one could do, but she was willing to take the duty on. Just this once.

 

She had just as many questions as her brother if not more, but she felt in her gut that now was not the time to ask. Not when Jack had that strange expression on his face, his brows furrowed and nose slightly scrunched as if he couldn’t decide what he thought about a particular smell. The silence was also stifling and she was eager to escape it for the remainder of the day.

 

With a squeeze of his shoulder, Katherine told Jack that she was going into town for a few hours. He nodded, and she added on that should anyone come knocking, he wasn’t obligated to answer. A low noise in the back of his throat and a mumble of agreement was her answer. His mother lingered in the doorway and held her sigh until it was closed behind her.

 

This was no decision that she could make for him.

 

Jack would have to decide this on his own.

 

And Jack was left sitting at the table, running his thumb over the thick parchment and eyes on the inked words etched onto it, poring over them as he had the night before until the fatigue became too much for him. Jack felt a war of emotions and thought; amazement that Berk still existed and seemed to thriving, however in secret they did, a curiosity since childhood to see the place for himself, to see if Berk was all he imagined it to be when he was a child.

 

Jack often thought about what he would do if he could fly as his once-friend did. Even before meeting his once-friend, he’d thought about what it would be like to fly. Before his father died, he thought of flying away from the valley to see far off lands. He thought of flying to Manny’s home on the moon, flying with the geese and swans that settled on the lake and the rivers when it was warm, over the woods and beyond the mountains. He once dreamt of flying towards the see, wondering if he would see white cliffs or black sand, or so much foam collected at the shore that the wind would cause it to fly away, ripped from the shore and towards the sky, filling the air with the smell of the sea. He dreamt of seeing it all.

 

But that was before his father died.

 

Once his father died, Jack was determined to stay home and take care of his family, and he had to put those fanciful dreams and thoughts aside. To be forgotten and left in his childhood.

 

Now, though. Now there were strangers from a land he didn’t know even existed anymore were requesting him to go there. To go to Berk where a prince was asking for his hand.

 

And Jack was feeling that little spark. A spark that was unashamed and curious to see lands that were not his own. He thought of his mother’s tales, the way she would talk of glorious fights between the Berkians and faraway sailors, of warriors who were half-mad and vicious, of winged women who carried away the worthy warriors, and of the island they once lived on, he thought of how entranced he was by those stories and how badly he wanted to go there.

 

He still did. He wanted to go to Berk to see if it was true, that it was still real.

 

But other thoughts and questions bogged on his mind, and the most prominent of all was: _why me?_

 

Why **him** of all people?  


The Overlands had no trace of noble blood in them, they were not known for being steadfast warriors, they did not bring shiny gold and silvers from their travels, their battles, and they did not have war stories to give, none to dazzle the gruff young men in pubs and brothels who felt they had something to prove. No single member of any generation of the Overland family or the families that married into it brought fame to their name. They were not a remarkable family by any means. They were a family that’d lived off of the land for generations, treating the earth and the valley with the respect and cautious love that it deserved. They did not live on in public memory aside from a faint recognition and a satisfied nod from a villager who would comment on what a nice family they were. They kept to themselves, they provided for their families, and they were not remarkable.

 

The Overlands were happy to be a perfectly well-to-do family that sometimes struggled under the ever changing and wild elements and the tumultuous nature of humanity and its changes. They struggled and life was not always easy, but they had each other and they were happy.

 

Jack was an Overland and he was not remarkable. He would go about his days watching the sheep, making sure that they did not wander off, and he sometimes liked to play games with his sister in the woods or in the hills of the valley. He liked to tell jokes and stories to make his mother and sister laugh. He was content to quell his restless urges and wants of something different to make sure that his mother and Emma led a happy life and that he provided for them. He would take a job in town, maybe be a schoolteacher, and maybe one day, he would marry and have a family of his own.

 

Restless and confined as he sometimes felt at the same ordinary sights and sounds of his ordinary life, he was content and he was happy with that.

 

And a _prince_ was asking for his hand in marriage?

 

Pardon him for being more than a little skeptical.

 

What was so special and noteworthy enough for a prince from some faraway land to be interested in him enough to want to marry him? How did he even catch a prince’s attention in the first place? Jack didn’t understand.

 

Frowning, his hand clenched and unclenched, staring down at it in thought.

 

“Why me?” He whispered.

 

But for all of his confusion, there was also intrigue, interest and curiosity. Who wouldn’t be curious? There were so many questions he had, about Berk, about the world beyond the village of Burgess, and who would be better to ask than a prince who lived far across the mountains?

 

Rubbing his forehead, Jack read over the letter again, closely inspecting the prince’s words. He read them over and over again, as he’d done since he first received it the night before.

 

The first couple of sentences, reassuring him not to be afraid felt sincere as he read them, and then the next few sounded awkward and a little blunt in their wording, almost.. as if he was shy and unsure how to ask. It wasn’t the most romantic thing he’d ever read, but it was to the point and made his intentions clear. The wording was so uncertain he’d almost call it.. cute.

 

Unbidden, he gave a small smile as he read over the words for the nth time.

 

Jack wondered what kind of person this Prince Håkon was.

 

The part he pondered the longest on was the prince’s assurance that should accept his proposal, he would provide for Jack’s family and treat them well enough that his mother and Emma would live comfortably for the remainder of their lives. While he sounded sincere enough earlier in the letter, just how sure could he be that the prince would keep to his word?

 

Should Jack accept, of course.

 

He couldn’t help but be a little suspicious of that promise. A scowl formed on his lips and he set aside any thoughts of the prince being sincere and nearly sweet and snarkily wondered if this was some kind of ploy on the prince’s part. How could he be sure that he would? That he wouldn’t just take Jack in and completely forget about his promise to care for his family? And how often would he get to see his family if he did accept? Would the prince let him visit his family whenever he wanted? Could his mother and Emma visit him at Berk, wherever it was now? Maybe even come to live with them? Or would the prince forbid him from seeing his family entirely?

 

Jaw locking, his hands clenched into fists on the table.

 

_Like hell._

 

Jack didn’t care who this prince was, no royal was _ever_ going to keep him away from his family.

 

He glared down at the parchment for several long minutes before giving an aggravated sigh. Folding the letter, he got up from the table, pushing his table pack, and took his cloak off of its hook. He clasped it around his neck and then retrieved his boots, a little worn, but still in good condition. Once his boots were secure around his feet, he grabbed his staff and walked towards the door. His hand was on the doorknob when he paused, not turning it. He glanced over his shoulder at the letter laid folded on the kitchen table.

 

Jack walked back to the table and stuffed the letter behind his cloak. He picked up his staff again and walked out the door. It shut behind him and his feet crunched against the snow piled on the ground, purpose in each and every step.

 

The end of his staff dragged against the snow as he walked closer and closer to the edge of the woods, the pines coated with white and leafless trees bare and dark against the gray late morning sky. The closer he walked, the more he could smell the traces of wood burning, of smoke and ash. His nose scrunched and his steps were more careful as he walked closer. They must’ve made camp, they were staying for the week, after all. The snow covered their footsteps from the night before, but he could smell their campfire and the rather rank smell of fish that’d recently been cooked over a fire and eaten. It was a rather strong smell. It made his nose scrunch further and he gave a small noise of disgust in the back of his throat.

 

He liked fish well enough, but one could only enjoy the smell so much.

 

Or not at all, such as in Jack’s case.

 

Following the smell of campfire, it wasn’t much longer before he stumbled upon the flickering orange and reds of a fire, strong and bright, burning. He squinted at the light and his steps became more gingerly and quiet the closer he got. Branches and twigs snapped under his boots, and he tightened his grasp on his staff when he saw the back of the young woman from the night before.

 

Astrid, her name was, he remembered.

 

Her back was to him and her braid was tucked over her shoulder. She was dressed in furs and thick fabric, her fur hood pulled back. The snow reflected off of her pale blonde hair and the logs of the fire crackled as she stoked it. Fish on sticks were roasting over the fire and he could hear the oil spitting angrily on their scales, like chestnuts being smashed open.

 

Well, that explained the rank smell.

 

She continued to stoke the fire and held her stick of fish over the fire. She wasn’t looking at him, seeming to have not noticed his presence at all. Sucking in a breath, Jack took a step forward. A branch cracked under his foot and he flinched at the loud snap that echoed through the forest, like a shriek. Her shoulders jolted and she twisted around with a fierce glare, dropping the stick and grasping her fingers onto a leather bound handle.

 

Jack wasn’t looking forward to find out what the handle was attached to.

 

(He didn’t hear nor see shadows shifting behind the trees at the sound and the two pairs of eyes that were watching him.)

 

But when she saw who it was, she blinked and the hardness in her face ebbed away. Her grip on her axe loosened and she let it lean against the log.

 

“Jack? What’re you doing here?” She asked, her brows furrowing.

 

He had an answer already? Well, that was.. fast.

 

She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

 

“Uh,” he started, fingertips rubbing against the wood. “Hey.. Astrid, right?” At her nod, he continued on, an uncertain expression flickering on his face. “Um, can I ask you a couple of questions? If, you don’t mind that is.”

 

She stared at him wordlessly, leaving him feeling unnerved before she nodded and beckoned him to sit down on one of two logs around the fire. Her brow quirked upwards when he perched down on the other side of her, a couple of feet between them. He’d started at the sight of the axe next to her knee and she nearly burst out laughing at his look of shock and mild fear. She simply crossed her arms, letting him know she wasn’t going to touch it, and he relaxed.

 

As relaxed as he could be, given that this woman was apparently the friend of a _prince_.

 

Astrid, on the other hand, was very relaxed and enjoying herself as she watched the nervousness flicker on Jack’s face.

 

“So?” She asked lightly. “What do you want to ask me?”

 

He bit his lip and looked into the fire. He didn’t answer right away. And when he did speak, he wasn’t looking at her, and a frown was settling on his lips.

 

“..How well do you know this Prince.. Håkon?” He asked quietly.

 

The grin fell off her lips and an unreadable expression set on her face. She studied him and the way his face changed out of the corner of her eyes. She could feel the eyes peering at their backs and glanced back into the forest only once, seeing a certain pair in the distance, and then turned back to Jack.

 

“I’ve known him since we were children, we practically grew up together.”

 

A pause.

 

Jack lightly scuffed his heel into the ground and blinked at the light of the fire. He still wasn’t looking at her.

 

“..What kind of person is he?”

 

He didn’t see the way Astrid’s eyebrows rose nor the widening of her eyes.

 

Astrid glanced once more at the two large shapes concealed in the darkness of the woods and was thankful for the overcast gray sky. She looked back at him, then at the fire. She worried her bottom lip as she tried to put the words together, to give him an answer that he deserved, but didn’t reveal too much. There was only so much that she could tell him.

 

“..It’s hard to sum him up in a single word,” She began. “He’s a lot of things.”

 

Clearly not satisfied with that answer, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, his frown heavy.

 

She stared into the fire, and then, with a small huff, she grinned. Jack blinked.

 

“Frankly, he’s one of the most stupidly reckless people I’ve ever met--”

 

She ignored the affronted huff coming from the woods and a light chuff of amusement and Jack didn’t hear it at all. He only furrowed his brows at her and turned his lower half to face her properly, silently imploring her to go on further.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cause so much trouble just by stepping out of his door, and some of the things he’s done are not only stupid, but crazy.” With a laugh, she shook her head. A faint sniff resounded from the shadows, but it was drowned out by the crackle of the fire.

 

Jack gave her a dubious look.

 

Was it even allowed for her to talk about her prince like that? Don’t most people get executed for talking about their royalty like that? Isn’t that the norm? How was she getting away with this?!

 

“But while he’s kind of crazy, he’s... done a lot for Berk. More than I think any of us could thank him for.” A softer smile curled on her lips, but when she looked at Jack, her expression was somber and serious.

 

“I can’t tell you exactly what kind of person he is unless you decide to meet him yourself. That’s the only way you’ll actually know what he’s like. But I can at least tell you this much: he’s good.”

 

Astrid wasn’t going to try to convince Jack to marry him, that wasn’t her job. She was only a messenger and was not keen on acquiring another heavy duty to take on. But even if it was her duty to do, she wouldn’t. No one but Jack could decide.

 

The prince had made that very clear before they’d even left Berk.

 

_I don’t want either of you trying to convince him_ , he’d said. _Let him decide on his own. If he agrees, then that’s. That’s amazing, but if not... Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there._

 

She couldn’t convince Jack to marry him, but she could at least try to tell him that he was good, that Jack would see it if he decided to say yes and got to know him. But that was all Astrid could do.

 

Jack absorbed her words and his gaze flitted back to the fire, pondering on its reds, oranges and yellows as he mulled over what Astrid just told him.

 

He wasn’t satisfied with that answer, and how could he know that she wasn’t lying to him? She knew the prince personally, she’d even said that they’d known each other since childhood. Astrid could be trying to sway his opinion to liking him and accepting the prince’s offer when he really wasn’t all that good at all.

 

But the way she’d insulted her own prince.. The way she’d smiled as he mentioned the good he did for Berk, whatever that good even was..

 

He wasn’t so sure.

 

Jack licked at his bottom lip and glanced back at her.

 

“Then.. does that mean he would act on his promise?”

 

She looked at him and furrowed her brows.

 

He continued, “Would he really provide for my mother and my sister while I’m gone?”

 

“Of course,” She said instantly. There was no hesitation in her voice.

 

Jack was almost taken aback by the sheer force of her words.

 

“...Really?” He asked quietly, his brows knitting together.

 

Astrid smiled and nodded. “Really. That’s not something he’d ever lie about. I know you don’t really have any reason to trust me, but I’ll just ask you to trust me on this; he keeps his word.”

 

Jack looked at her, unreadable and then looked back at the fire.

 

There were other questions he wanted to ask, so many questions. They were hanging on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be said, but he could not find the words nor the energy to say them. The utter confidence in Astrid’s voice seemed to have quelled some of his more cynical questions, now suddenly sure that she would be quite cross if he were to accuse or suspect the prince of doing anything untoward to his family.

 

That axe looked rather nasty.

 

Jack wasn’t eager to be on the sharp end of it.

 

With a small nod to himself, he stood up from the log, using the end of his staff to push himself up, and brushed some of the wood flecks off of his trousers. He looked at Astrid and gave her a faint half-smile.

 

“..Thanks for answering my questions, Astrid.”

 

She gave him a flash of a grin and nodded once.

 

He gave a nod back and then stepped a leg over the log and went back the way he came.

 

Astrid watched up until the brown of his cloak disappeared into the darkness of the woods. She waited until she was sure he’d left the woods entirely, and then looked back at the fire. She stoked it again and tossed another piece of firewood into it.

 

“You two can come out now.”

 

Stormly trotted out of the darkness of the woods and squawked happily, moving towards her rider. The blue dragon with colorful spots on her wings hopped in one place and then she purred happily when Astrid scratched at her chin. Astrid cooed ‘ _good girl, that’s my girl, you did such a good job of hiding_ ’ and slowly, another dragon crept out of the woods.

 

Slit yellow eyes looked at the auburn dragon and Stormfly warbled at him, cocking her head. The auburn dragon gave her a quiet rumble in return.

 

Astrid turned and grinned wryly at the auburn dragon, his green eyes bright and unsure. They were looking towards where Jack had left.

 

“At least he doesn’t hate you. Not enough to not ask questions about you, anyway. That’s a step up, right?” A quiet trill was her answer, and green eyes stared at the snow covered ground .She grinned wider. “You’ll be sweeping him off his feet in no time, I’m sure. Stop being such a big baby, it’s unbecoming of you.”

 

The auburn dragon huffed at her, green eyes half-lidded and unamused. 

 

\---

 

Katherine woke up to the sound of the door closing with a ‘ _click_ ’ behind him as Jack stepped outside to let the sheep out of their paddock. Pulling a shawl over her shoulders, she watched her son’s form grow smaller as he led the sheep away in order to let them stretch their legs. She made herself a pot of tea and sipped it with a frown on her lips. When Emma woke up, ready to take the sheep out, they were already gone and she was left confused. Katherine made a warm cup of hot chocolate and they sat together in front of the fire, Emma leaning against her mother’s back. She ran her finger over the rim of the mug.

 

“..Do you think he’ll say yes?” Emma asked quietly.

 

Katherine gave a wan smile into her tea. “I knew you were listening in, you little sneak,” She said affectionately.

 

Emma blushed and took a gulp of her hot chocolate to conceal her embarrassment at revealing herself. Her mother chuckled.

 

Katherine stared into the fire and her smile faded. “... I cannot give you that answer, Emma. Whether he says yes will be entirely up to him.”

 

To admit to both herself and her daughter that she didn’t know the response Jack would give by the end of the week was a difficult task. As their mother, she was expected to know almost everything, even at the age Jack was at now. As their mother, they thought she had all the answers to every question. But this was something she had no answer to.

 

She remembered how loudly he’d protested against taking up an apprenticeship only a year before, how he’d stomped out of the house after they’d shouted at each other, something she still regrets doing, and how he’d been standing on their doorstep, half frozen to death. It was a sight she’d never wanted to see again and promised herself that while she was still his mother, he was of his right mind and age to make his own decisions. Perhaps one day, he’d leave home of his own accord.

 

Being proposed to by a prince was not how she expected that to happen.

 

And Katherine wondered.

 

She knew that Jack loved her and Emma, loved them dearly and loved his home. But he was restless. Katherine knew her son well enough to see it. He needed to leave home someday, but why had he been so adamant on staying at home? Surely it wasn’t because he felt like he had to since losing his father?

 

Though... that would bring some clarity to his stubborn refusal to leave home.

 

Shaking her head, Katherine gave a small sigh into her warm cup of tea. A swell of warmth grew in her chest. Her boy could be so foolish, yet so kind.

 

Katherine could do no more than simply let Jack come to his own decision, whatever it may be.

 

Emma gave a grunt into her mug, frowning. “I just hope he doesn’t do something stupid,” she grumbled.

 

Her mother laughed.

 

\---

 

The end of his staff tapped against the toe of his boot as Jack watched the sheep pacing about the snow, one biting at the branches of a bush, as if it still had leaves or berries on it. With a sigh, Jack pressed his cheek against the cold wood of the shepherd’s crook and leaned forward. He looked down at the snow, his boots, the sheep, and the grey skies.

 

While Astrid did at least answer his questions, to the best of her abilities, it only drew more questions from him. He felt as if he knew even less about this mysterious Prince Håkon than he already did from the start. She’d been so vague in her answers, as if she couldn’t tell him certain things about the prince. It was frustrating.

 

Her lack of concrete answers just roused more of his curiosity about Berk and the prince himself.

 

The only concrete things he know about the prince was his name, where he was from, that he’d done good for Berk, that Astrid was very loyal to him, and that he was asking for his hand. That was all he knew for sure. Other than that, he knew nothing about him.

 

Everything else, he could only guess.

 

 

And he’d never met the prince, how could he have captured his heart ( _gods_ that was embarrassing to think about) when the prince never even spoke to him? How could he know anything about Jack that was worth loving?

 

Had he been watching him in secret?

 

...Oh gods that was creepy to think about. Forgetting about that--

 

That.. didn’t seem to be the case, though. Not by how confident Astrid was in his kindness and the almost shy way he wrote the letter in. A kind man wouldn’t stalk their beloved. An unkind man would not earn the loyalty of someone so stern and intimidating like Astrid. If he were to trust Astrid’s judgement, but even then, despite her confidence, he didn’t know her either.

 

With a loud, aggravated groan, Jack rubbed at the back of his head and dragged his fingers along the skin of his face. He glared at the sky, waiting for some kind of answer that would never come.

 

He didn’t know anything about all of this.

 

The sheep only bleated at him as they continued to roam about the snow.

 

Sighing, he laid flat on his back against the boulder he was sitting on. He closed his eyes and thought.

 

Why didn’t you say no right away? A little voice in the back of his mind asked.

 

Brown eyes opened and stared at the sky.

 

“.. Why _didn’t_ I?” He murmured to himself. his brows knit together.

 

He could’ve. He could’ve said no the minute they stepped through his door and gave him the letter. He could’ve shoved it back into Fishlegs’s chest, told him to take a hike and so could their prince, he wasn’t going to leave his family. He could’ve shut the door in both of their faces, he would’ve gone to bed, and that would’ve been that.

 

He could’ve said no.

 

And he hadn’t.

 

Why?

 

Jack didn’t know, and he hated not knowing.

 

He hated not knowing why he didn’t say no to the proposal right away as much as he hated that he didn’t know why the dragon never came back to the valley.

 

Feeling a lump form in his throat at the memory of his friend with auburn scales, Jack swallowed and sat up. He rubbed at his eyes and he looked down at the sheets of white coating the fields, the gray peaks of the mountains and the snow clinging to the sides. He stared at the mountains for a long time.

 

...The dragon often flew towards the mountains, he remembered.

 

The sun would begin to dip along the slops of the mountain range and the dragon would lift his head, spread his wings, and with a final look towards Jack and his sister, he would lift off of the ground and fly off into the distance. Jack would watch until the dragon disappeared behind them. And he would wonder what was beyond the mountains, and he dreamt of flying on the dragon’s back to see the very tops of the mountains and the lands that laid beyond them.

 

He gave a faint smile at the memory and sniffed.

 

Gods, if there was anyone he needed right now, to just have someone to talk to about all of this, anyone to just sit and listen to him, it was the dragon.

 

But the dragon wasn’t here.

 

Jack couldn’t change that, no matter what he wished for.

 

What he also couldn’t change was that a prince was asking for his hand in marriage and he had to give some kind of answer by the end of the week. Whether it was an acceptance, refusal, or a plea to wait a bit longer, he had to figure out **something** by then.

 

Licking at his bottom lip, he rubbed at his temple and closed his eyes. He gave a sigh.

 

How could he leave his family when they still needed him? What if something happened to the sheep and his mother couldn’t use them as a source of income anymore? What if his mother passed on and Emma was left alone? What if something happened to Emma?

 

A cold hand seized at his heart at the very thought.

 

“ _That’s not something he’d ever lie about. I know you don’t really have any reason to trust me, but I’ll just ask you to trust me on this; he keeps his word_ ”

 

His hand paused in its rubbing against his forehead.

 

He thought of the sheer confidence in Astrid’s tone, her eyes, and the set of her jaw and her shoulders. She’d been so confident in her own answer, as if what she’s saying were the words of the gods themselves, parroted through her. She’d been so _sure_ , nothing at all like he’s been feeling the past two days. He didn’t know anything about her, but he could hear it in her voice: the belief that her prince was good and would keep his word, should he accept.

 

He’d provide for his family. That’s what he promised.

 

The prince would make sure that his family would live in comfort and never have to worry about not being able to feed themselves when a harvest was bad, or when grain was too expensive for his mother to buy while she was in the village marketplace. The prince could give them enough money to fix the hole in their roof, to buy a better spinning wheel for his mother, more food from faraway lands for his family to try.

 

If he provided for them, then that was an implicit promise of protection. A promise that his family would never want for anything and that they would be well cared for.

 

Jack heard of nobles who cared little for those who had no trace of noble blood in them, of their malice, their cruelty, and worst of all; their apathy. So many nobles had no care of what happened to the normal, everyday person who worked the fields and subsisted their own gardens for a living. He’d heard of so many awful stories, and here was a prince promising to care about his family, even when he’d be away from them.

 

Jack wasn’t sure how much he trusted Astrid and her judgement of the prince, but if she was speaking the truth, then Jack would no longer have to worry about leaving his mother and his sister to struggle on their own. And Jack would be able to see lands that he did not see every day. He could see so many things and know that his family was in good hands.

 

And he wondered what it would be like to meet Prince Håkon himself.

 

Feet crunched in the snow in the distance, and then he heard a voice call out in the near distance, echoing on the light breeze.

 

“Jack! Mom says dinner will be ready soon!”

 

He blinked.

 

Already..?

 

Jack looked towards the sky beyond the mountains and saw that the clouds were turning a darker shade of gray, blending with the mountain range. Oh, right, Winter. The sun was setting already. His mother wouldn’t want him outside for much longer. He ran a hand through his hair, sighed and stood up from the boulder. Jack walked towards the sheep, gently leading a wayward one back to the herd. 

 

“All right, c’mon guys, you heard the little lady. Time to go home.”

 

One of the sheep sneezed at him as he herded them all together, but they followed him as he walked back to his house, his sister sitting at the doorstep as she waited for him. Emma went back inside and Jack stood on the doorstep, looked over his shoulder at the edge of the woods, stared at it thoughtfully, and then closed the door behind him.

 

\---

 

Days passed and Jack hadn’t returned to their camp.

 

The days were agonizingly slow and as darkness descended on the valley, their campfire blaring into the night, a sense of frustration, anxiety and defeat was thick amongst the three Berkians and their dragons as they sat around the campfire. Astrid and Fishlegs cave each other concerned stares as green eyes stared dully into the fire, the light flickering off of the metal and warming the leather.

 

He’d poke at the fire and Fishlegs would try to keep the other male’s spirits up with the knowledge he’d acquired while studying a new species of dragon they’d found, white as the snow it lived in, how scales that looked like spikes of pure ice crowned its head, the ivory spikes on its backs, and fire so hot the flames were blue. He spoke of the dragon with enthusiasm, making green eyes flicker towards him and crinkle with the hint of a smile. But it wouldn’t last long, and Fishlegs was left to sigh despondently when the resigned lines of the rider’s eyes returned.

 

The week was coming to a close and there was no indication that Jack was going to accept. He hadn’t returned to their campsite since he’d come to ask Astrid questions about their prince. Astrid felt confident that day that he’d come to say yes, but now... she wasn’t so sure.

 

Their third rider was feeling more and more hopeless and she hated it.

 

Astrid hated it, and Fishlegs did too, but they didn’t know what they could do to make it better. They couldn’t make him say yes. Fishlegs quietly said that maybe there would be somebody else, maybe if they went further south, but he’d only shaken his head and looked at him with grateful, but sad green eyes.

 

“It’s okay, Fishlegs,” he said softly. “You don’t need to treat me like I’m made of glass. It’s nobody’s fault, I’ll be fine.”

 

All three knew that was a lie.

 

No one knew that better than Toothless’s rider.

 

Two more days were left before the end of the week, two more days before they were to leave. Astrid wanted to stay confident, but as the week’s end loomed closer, even she began to waver.

 

She and Fishlegs were going to lose their friend, and there was nothing they could do about it.

 

Imagine her surprise when she heard light footsteps come forward from behind her as she was sharpening her axe, a heavy frown on her lips. It was the day before they were meant to leave, and Fishlegs was with the dragons getting food for the journey home. Feet shifted on the snow and she looked over her shoulder, and her eyes widened a little. Then her expression turned serious as sky blue met a nervous brown.

 

The tip of his nose was flushed and he rubbed his thumb against the wooden staff in attempt to calm his nerves.

 

He brought his arms behind his back and stood up straight, clearing his throat. The staff behind him twitched with each movement of his fingers.

 

“So,” he said.

 

She stared at him.

 

The faux-confident expression on his face faltered a little.

 

“I’ve, um. Come to a decision.”

 

Fishlegs fell into the icy water of the lake with a shriek when Astrid came storming in while shouting his name, breaking the quiet of his ice-fishing like a clatter of thunder. Meatlug carried her writer out of the water and the auburn dragon caught the fish that’d flown off of Fishleg’s hook between his teeth and gave it to Toothless, who purred happily. Stormfly was hopping and shifting from one claw to the other and unless he was mistaken, Fishlegs was sure that Astrid was vibrating with what could be either excitement or anxiety.

 

“T-Thank you, princesss-- _sss_ ,” He chattered sweetly to his dragon. Meatlug lolled her tongue out and licked him, and then Fishlegs turned his attention to Astrid, glaring at her as the tips of his hair froze.

 

“Did you have to come clunking in like that!? I was in the middle of a big catch! My big girl deserves the best dinner--!”

 

“Shut up, Fishlegs,” Astrid waved him off and ran towards the auburn dragon, a grin wide and toothy on her lips.

 

Toothless and the auburn dragon blinked and looked at each other. Toothless seemed to give a shrug of his large, black shoulders, warbling, and the auburn dragon looked at her. He gave a confused trill and cocked his head.

 

Ignoring Fishleg’s affronted shouts at her, she grinned wider at him.

 

“I’ve got some good news for you.”

 

Jack had looked at the ground once, for several prolonged seconds, and then took a deep breath before he stood up straight and looked at her. His jaw was set and his eyes were firm. His stomach fluttered and his heart beat loud in his chest, bursting through his ear drums.

 

“I’ve decided to accept Prince Håkon’s proposal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLOT PLOT PLOT PLOT PLOT
> 
> this chapter was a bit of a challenge if only because there's a lot of plot details thrown out here in this chapter, the main one being the reason why jack chooses to accept the proposal in the first place. BUT YES and here, the plot begins to thicken even more.
> 
> a note about updates: ideally, i'd like to be able to update once every week or so, but i can't make any promises because some of them can get quite long or require me to think deeply about the approach to this story. some of the stuff i'll be covering later is gonna be a bit difficult to write down. but! i will persevere!
> 
> next chapter, the future lovebirds may or may not be meeting :) we'll see.
> 
> thank you all so much for reading!


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he told Astrid of his decision, he has to tell his family. And so, his mother and his sister have different reactions to his choice, and when fateful the morning comes, Jack meets his mode of transport and is reunited with a familiar face.

 

The bag shut with a small ‘click,’ holding the few belongings he had; some clothes, a couple books he wanted to keep for himself (the rest would go to Emma, as he’d already memorized and knew the stories by heart after so many nights reading them aloud and to himself), and some other trinkets that reminded him of home. Brown eyes stared down at the leather bag and Jack ran his palm along its side. 

 

The window pane creaked, and he stared out into the darkness outside his window. The snow was falling again, the flakes shooting down in an icy rain and the winds were strong, whining against the wood. Astrid had told him to rest up, for if the storm did not pass by morning, then it would be a bit of a rough ride. He needed to be prepared and well-rested when they left.

 

Jack still wasn’t sure _how_ they were going to get out of the valley, but he supposed that he would just have to trust her judgement on the weather. He hadn’t seen any kind of carriage, cart or even any horses at their campsite.

 

With a frown, he scrunched his nose and scratched at the back of his head.

 

_Well, let’s just add that to the dozens of questions I have,_ he thought sarcastically.

 

Lowering his hand, he shifted on his feet and looked around his room; the small space he shared with his sister, the same room he was born in, where his mother nursed him, and where his father used to tell him stories of the Man in the Moon so that he would stop howling at the top of his tiny little lungs and ease him to sleep. The sound of his father’s soft, quiet murmur of a voice against the crown of his hair and his mother’s deep alto rocked him to sleep. It was the same room Emma was born in, where she was nursed, and where he curled up next to his mother as their father soothed his sister to sleep, the family of four cuddling up next to Emma’s cradle (which had once been Jack’s), and sleeping under a large wool blanket together.

 

A small smile curled on his lips.

 

...There were so many memories in this room.

 

Some were memories he’d prefer not to remember (how Emma had cried and wailed when their father couldn’t soothe her to sleep anymore nor stroke her brown hair with his thin, pale and slender fingers, how he could hear his mother cry in the room next door), but more were the memories he cherished.

 

And this could very well be the last night he’d ever sleep in this room.

 

Jack supposed that he should enjoy it while he still could. While this room was still his.

 

While he still lived under this roof. In his home

 

Nervousness coiled in his stomach uncomfortably, and Jack tried to distract himself with other thoughts. Like the fact that the scene wasn’t completely set yet.

 

A frown fell on his lips just as he heard the door to the room click open. With a blink, he turned around and saw a single hazel eye peering at him through the crack in the door. A grin curled on his lips, a somewhat forced twitch of cheer.

 

“Well, hey there, stranger--”

 

The hazel eye glared at him and the doorframe shuddered slightly when the door slammed shut against it.

 

Shoulders jerking at the sound, the grin fell and Jack gave a sad sigh. He pinched at the bridge of his nose and rubbed at his temple, clenching his eyes shut.

 

“...Yeah, figured she’d do that,” he muttered under his breath.

 

Just like she’d done the day before, when he told his mother and Emma his decision about the proposal.

 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Jack laid his folded hands in his lap and stared at the tips of his bare feet. He stared down at them, blinking slowly, his brows heavy and his brown bangs drooping into his eyes. He wiggled the toes around a little, trying to amuse himself despite his less than cheerful thoughts and feelings. His chest felt heavy and he could taste the bitterness of remorse on the tip of his tongue, knowing how angry and hurt Emma was. His mother was quiet and she seemed to have difficulty looking at him in the eye. She stared above him, through him, and though she would try to smile, there was a hard edge to the corner of her mouth and a tremble of her bottom lip that she attempted to hide from her son.

 

The slam of the door to his mother’s room, where Emma holed herself up in the night before, still rang in his ears.

 

The moon wasn’t even visible in the dark night sky, not with the storm blowing through the valley. Well, there went that source of comfort.

 

Groaning in aggravation, Jack fell back against his bed and the leather bag and his staff bounced on the sheets. He glared up at the ceiling and the dark, aging wood. When he was too tired to glare at it any longer, he draped an arm over his eyes and gave a heavy exhale. He thought of only days before, coming home from watching the sheep in the snow, after he’d gone to the Berkian’s campsite to ask Astrid only the smallest amount of the dozens of questions he had.

 

\---

 

He remembered that stiflingly awkward dinner that night, when Jack barely touched a morsel while his mother and Emma conversed with each other about menial things. He felt their eyes on him, Emma looking at him from the corner of her eye and his mother glancing at him and his still mostly full plate of food. He hadn’t eaten that much that night. Didn’t have the stomach for it. When Katherine took their plates, Jack didn’t move from the table and simply folded his arms on top of the surface, staring into the candle.

 

Katherine looked over her shoulder at her son, and then quietly told her tired but worried daughter to get some sleep. She’d patted at her daughter’s hair and smiled at her, silently assuring her with her warm gray eyes that it was going to be all right, Jack would be fine.

 

She was just going to have a small talk with him before she and Jack went to bed.

 

A mother knows when their child is seeking an answer from them.

 

Jack didn’t have to say anything.

 

All Katherine had to do was look at his face and _see_.

 

She waited until Emma was in her and Jack’s shared room, then she made herself and Jack some tea. She added extra sugar and honey for her son, and then placed the warm mug in front of him. He stared into the liquid, smelling peppermint and a hint of ginger, and looked up his mother as she drank from her own cup. The old teapot was steaming next to her.

 

He didn’t say anything. He just looked into his tea and ran his finger along the rim of the cup.

 

Jack sighed, blowing his breath against the hot tea. He watched it ripple.

 

Holding back a small sigh of her own, Katherine gave a wan smile against the ceramic cup. 

 

“Jack, really,” Katherine murmured into her cup. “If you have something you want to talk about, please just say so. Don’t dawdle.” She sipped from her cup and Jack’s tea sloshed in his as he set it back down on the table to look at his mother.

 

“Doesn’t this seem,” He started, wringing his hands and fingers twitching. “All of this, doesn’t it seem odd to you?”

 

Katherine gave her son a dry stare. “Jack. A prince of Berk, a kingdom I believed didn’t exist anymore and whom I’ve never heard of, is asking you to marry him. It’s more than a little bit odd, Jack.”

 

He pointed at her, ignoring the hot flush of his cheeks at the reminder of the proposal. “There! That’s just it! I thought, I thought Berk was always just some made-up kingdom you and dad came up with to help me and Emma sleep at night. I always thought they were just stories.”

 

His mother’s brows creased and with a sigh, she lowered her cup. “It was before my time, and my mother told me of Berk and its people when I was a child. I grew up knowing they used to live far to the north, but..” She frowned and murmured, “We all thought they’d been driven out, wiped out, or perhaps even died out. They’d just, disappeared one day, so my mother said. I suppose they’ve been in hiding all this time.”

 

She of course couldn’t speak of the grimmer details to her children when they were young, and there was enough of a distance between Burgess and Berk that not many in their village knew much at all about Berk and its relations with clans that weren’t friendly towards them. Instead of asking her children to remember the violence of the history she’d heard of, she wanted her children to know of their mighty history and fantastical stories.

 

She would’ve told her children when they were older about the not so pretty details of what could have happened to the Berkians, but after the death of their father, Jack took over her role as storyteller for Emma, and she let him.

 

Jack’s brows furrowed and he pursed his lips. “If they were in hiding, why come out and show themselves _now_? How did you even **know**?”

 

His mother could only give her son a helpless shrug. “You’ll have to ask them yourself, should you want to.” She gave a faint smile. “I knew because of the seal. You remember it, don’t you?”

 

A bit confused, he nodded.

 

“And you saw the red skull, right?” He nodded again, and her smile widened again. “That’s the clan symbol for the Berkians. It’s also the insignia for its royal family.” She didn’t remember the dragon, though. “I remember it because I once saw a trade document with the very same symbol on it.”

 

“...Kinda dark, isn’t it?” Jack said, raising a thick eyebrow.

 

She gave a soft snort into her cup. “Vikings, dear. Vikings.”

 

Oh, right. How could he have forgotten that?

 

Katherine grinned. “And which one of my children always begged me to tell them stories about Berk and its people?”

 

Jack flushed and he glared down at the table, muttering something under his breath, likely a complaint to his mother to not embarrass him any further. She only gave a soft chuckle.

 

“Sorry, I’m just,” He sucked in a breath. “I’m.. finding this a little hard to believe.”

 

Her grin fell and she reached a hand out to grasp his wrist, rubbing her thumb against the bone of his wrist. “I know,” she said, soft. So was she.

 

His brown eyes were wide, baffled and shimmering as he looked down at the table and his now lukewarm tea. “Why me?” He whispered.

 

Katherine frowned. “What do you mean, ‘ _why you_?’”

 

Jack made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I mean why me as in why **me**? I’ve never even met this guy, didn’t even know he existed and yet here he goes and gives me this letter of p-p-” His cheeks colored and he gestured his free hand frantically. “Proposal and tells me that I did that-- uh, that thing--”

 

The flush deepened at the raised eyebrow from his mother.

 

“And I don’t understand why because why would a prince want to marry _me_?”

 

Katherine said nothing.

 

“I just don’t get it,” he breathed. His hand clenched in a tight fist on the table. “This guy, if he’s even real, is a prince who wants to marry some ordinary, unremarkable country bumpkin?” He gave a laugh and it made Katherine’s breath hitch; it was harsh, cold, like ice. So unlike the boisterous warmth that defined her son. 

 

“What a _joke_.”

 

Gray eyes flared and her grip tightened on his wrist. “Jackson Overland, I _never_ want to hear you speak like that about yourself ever again--”

 

Brown eyes shot up at her in a glare. “That’s what’s you’re concerned about? You’re sure being blase about all this, is that usual motherly behavior or just you?”

 

“Don’t you put words in my mouth.”

 

“I’m amazed that you’re not even the littlest bit bothered by all of this,” he shot back, his voice starting to raise.

 

Katherine slammed her palm on the table and the tea cups rattled from the impact, and Jack jerked. He blinked widely at his mother, taken aback.

 

“ _Of course I’m bothered!_ ” She hissed, gray eyes glinting like iron. “You’re my **son** , Jack, and what kind of mother would I be if I wasn’t bothered and frightened fact that a prince wants to take you away from me, from your sister? Take you to some place I didn’t even know still existed?”

 

Her eyes closed and she breathed. “I’m bothered, Jack,” she said tiredly. “I’m still having difficulty wrapping this around my head, though I can’t possibly imagine how this must make _you_ feel..”

 

Jack could only gape at his mother, blink, and open and close his mouth.

 

There was a long pause before he spoke again, soft and hesitant, “...I thought you’d tell me to say no.”

 

Katherine opened her eyes and Jack looked up at his mother from beneath his bangs. His chest tightened at the defined lines of her crow’s feet. She stared at him, gave a soft breath and somber smile. She raised a hand to press a palm against his cheek. Brushing the skin with her thumb, she marveled once more at the sharpness of his cheekbones, the angular lines of his face.

 

It feels like yesterday that he was only seven years old, edging on eight, staring into his baby sister’s crib, and his cheeks were still so full with baby fat.

 

How did he grow up so fast?

 

“It’s not my decision to make,” She said. The corner of her mouth quirked upwards. “As I recall, you don’t care much for me making life decisions for you.”

 

Shamefaced at the memory, he looked down at his cold tea. Then, he remembered something his mother just said, and glanced up at her again. “..You’re afraid of me leaving home?”

 

The smile slipped off of her lips and she only stared back at him. Silent, she gave a single nod.

 

His brows furrowed, confused. “But.. last year, it was like you were anxious for me to leave home, like-- like you _wanted_ me to leave.”

 

Katherine observed the confused lines of his face and then sighed. “For such a smart boy, you can be so foolish sometimes.”

 

Her son frowned. “Whoa, hey--”

 

His retort, maybe a little hurt, was cut off by his mother brushing his bangs out of his eyes. There was a soft smile on her lips, full of the same warmth that would lull him to sleep as a child. He quieted and simply indulged in her affectionate touch.

 

“I never wanted you to leave me and your sister,” She said firmly, brows set. “It is not that I don’t want you here, Jack. Of course I do, you’re my son and I love you. I love you, and you have done so much for me and Emma since your father died.”

 

She didn’t flinch, but her gray eyes were sad and full of memory.

 

“I could never thank you enough, Jack, for all that you’ve done. But sometimes... Sometimes I worry that in doing so much for me and your sister, for our home, you’ve forgotten to take care of yourself.” Sighing, she shook her head and closed her eyes. “That you forgot that you were still a child and ought to have fun, not for your sister, not for me, but for yourself. I feared that you would latch yourself onto this house, tying yourself down when you weren’t ready, that’d you forget about your own pursuits, your dreams. I didn’t want you to forget to be yourself, Jack. To live your own life. I still don’t.”

 

As a parent, it was one of her many duties to watch her child, to observe her children as they grew and developed their own unique personalities, attitudes, and strange little quirks. Emma was a budding artist especially interested in woodworks, though she also enjoyed needlework, and Jack was a natural storyteller that captured the rapt attention of the children he came across. He got the most joy out of playing with children, playing little tricks, telling them stories. But he was also a wanderer.

 

Oh, she remembered quite vividly of the time her husband brought their young son into the forest to show him what berries were safe to pick and eat and which weren’t, only to find their five year old climbing an old oak tree, giggling and swinging his legs back and forth from a high branch. Katherine heard her normally quiet husband’s shriek from yards away.

 

He was also most interested in stories of faraway lands, and there was pure awe in his brown eyes as she told him of deserts rolling with sand, white cliffs, lowlands where the winds howled in your ears and whipped along the skin of your face, and the mighty winters of the far north, the fjords and the hard, tough people who lived on islands off the coast.

 

She knew her son and she knew he wanted to travel, to see all of those places. She knew he so badly wanted to see them all. He was a restless soul, not fit for being strapped down to one place, but after his father died, he seemed to put it all behind him and was content to stay home and help her and her daughter.

 

Katherine loved and appreciated her son for helping her when she so desperately needed it, feeling lost without her best friend and partner, fearful that maybe she _couldn’t_ take care of an adolescent and a toddler by herself. But Jack gave her help, and though a vital member of their family was gone, they had each other, and they persevered.

 

But somewhere along the way, she wondered if maybe her son was losing a vital part of himself and trying to become an adult when he wasn’t ready to be one.

 

“ _That’s_ why I tried to push you to take an apprenticeship, though the approach I took wasn’t the correct one.” Her hands lowered from his face and she grasped his hands, holding them in hers tightly. “I wanted to give you the opportunity to pursue your own aspirations. I still want you to. Jack, you’re old enough now to make your own decisions, especially about these big things. This is no decision I can make for you, Jack.”

 

The pad of her thumb rubbed against his knuckles and her son cool look at her, mouth slightly parted, his brown eyes swimming with conflicting emotion. She smiled.

 

“That’s why I’m leaving this to you, Jack. Come to your own conclusions. And I want you to know this Jack, and know it well; anyone, man or woman, neither, it doesn’t matter, would be a very fortunate person to have you at their side for the rest of their life.” With a wan, somber smile, she leaned in to kiss his brow, and Jack closed his eyes. He felt his bottom lip trembling.

 

“Whatever you decide, Jack, I will support you.” Her smile spread further. Her gray eyes were misty. “I’m your mother after all.”

 

Katherine drank the last of her tea, took both of their cups, and kissed Jack’s forehead before going to bed herself. She bid him goodnight and he murmured goodnight back. With a lingering look over her shoulder, she closed the door of her bedroom behind her. Jack was left at the table to his own thoughts.

 

A single hazel eye peaked out of the crack in the doorway and Emma frowned as she saw her brother sighing heavily and dropping his head into his arms on the table. Quietly, she shut the door, and the lit candle was Jack’s only company.

 

He’d stayed up for hours that night, just thinking.

 

Thinking of the letter, the stories his parents once told him when he was a child, the two Berkians, and the conversation he’d just had with his mother.

 

And he thought of the dragon.

 

He thought of the tales of Berk and its high, sharp mountain peaks and how the dragon’s wings would spread and lift the dragon high into the air, and then disappear behind the clouds. He’d always wanted to know where the dragon went, where he could not follow.

 

He wanted to know where the dragon was, if he was happy with a mate or a family somewhere, maybe by the sea.

 

He thought of the sea, a place he’d never seen nor been to before. He’d only had illustrations and paintings in books.

 

He thought of the prince’s promise, the shyness and awkward hand of the ink splotted onto the page.

 

And Jack had thought of his family being able to live their lives comfortably, without worry of being able to feed themselves during the cold winter, of his sister nevermore having to content herself with clothes that didn’t fit her anymore, dresses that frayed at the end, and he thought of the lines around his mother’s eyes that could finally relax and no longer have to worry about keeping both of her children fed, leaving herself with little to nothing. He thought of them living in comfort, warmth, never having a want for anything.

 

Jack didn’t make his decision until several days later.

 

His mother wanted him to live his own life, to become his own person; to learn and discover his own place in the world. Jack wasn’t sure what it _meant_ to learn and figure out who he was, but he knew that more than anything that he wanted his family to be happy and live in comfort, without worry or fear.

 

The young man knew not what kind of life was ahead of him and the uncertainty was frightening, but he knew the life he wanted his mother and his sister to lead.

 

With that one, small piece of knowledge, his decision fell into place.

 

And with a deep breath, a pulse that raced in his eardrums and beat in his chest, he held his staff and walked towards the camp of the two Berkians, finding Astrid beginning to pack up their things already. Then, he gave her his decision.

 

Her look of shock and then complete delight would’ve been comical if he hadn’t felt so nerve-wracked and winded from finally saying it out loud. It was different saying it to someone’s face than muttering it under his breath on the walk to the campsite. She’d started muttering in a language he didn’t understand (Berkian, or something else? She and Fishlegs spoke the common tongue rather fluently, though), but she didn’t seem angry, not at all; she looked ecstatic.

 

“Oh, thank the gods!” She breathed out. “Honestly, with how long it was taking you, I was expecting you to say no by this point or say nothing at all--”

 

He shifted awkwardly on his feet, unsure how to take that response. “Well--” He started. She kept talking.

 

“All right, we’ll get prepared for a travel party for three, I’ll need to tell Fishlegs first--” She wasn’t paying that much attention to him anymore, mumbling notes to herself and reminders she’d have to remember, walking about the campsite.

 

“W-Wait a minute--” He frowned, feeling a spark of annoyance at being ignored after just agreeing to marry someone he’d never met before.

 

“He’s going to be so _happy_ \--”

 

The back of his neck felt warmer than before. “Whoa, hey, I wanna say something first!” He said, loudly. Practically barking it out at her, brows furrowed in slight irritation.

 

Slowly, she blinked at him, then she stopped twitching. Clearing her throat, she placed her hands on her hips and waited expectantly. “Okay..? What do you want to say?”

 

“Well, first off,” He said, frown still on his lips. “I’ve got some conditions for saying yes.”

 

Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t protest. If anything, she seemed interested. She waited for him to continue.

 

Jack crossed his arms over his chest staff still in his hand and with a pointed jut of his chin, continued. He sounded a lot more confident than he actually felt.

 

“I want to be able to visit my family whenever I want,” he said.

 

Astrid only stared at him, her brows raising a little higher. She waited for him to state any other conditions that he had, but he didn’t continue after that. She blinked and narrowed her eyes a little, cocking her head to the side.

 

“Um, is that all?”  


The hard edges of his face softened as he blinked. “Er, yeah. That’s my only condition.” Then, Jack’s eyes narrowed and his mouth fell into a firm, hard line. “I need you to promise me that I’ll be allowed to see my family whenever I want, because if you honestly think that I’m gonna be okay with leaving my home and never seeing them again--”

 

Stopping him with a hand held up, Astrid grinned at him, shook her head and laughed. “Calm down, calm down, I promise you. You’ll be able to visit your family as many times as you want. Trust me, he’s not the type of guy to keep you held down or away from your family. He’s better than that.”

 

Considering how often their king complained and mumbled about his wayward son and his blasted dragon, sometimes disappearing for days at a time, her princely friend had no room to talk about keeping Jack tied down at Berk.

 

Her grin stretched wider. “Plus, he’d be a giant hypocrite if he tried to do that.”

 

(Elsewhere, deeper into the woods, an auburn dragon sneezed a noseful of ice cold water while looking for food in a frozen lake, spraying an exasperated Fishlegs.)

 

That certainly sparked some of Jack’s curiosity about the prince. How would the prince be a hypocrite if he said no to letting him see his family--?

 

Wait a minute.

 

“It’s that easy?” He asked, disbelieving.

 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Did you think he wouldn’t allow it?”

 

He didn’t answer right away, and that was answer enough for Astrid. She frowned and held back a sigh; well, to be fair, Jack didn’t know that much at all about their prince, so she supposed that she couldn’t blame him for possibly thinking the worst of him.

 

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck, looking down at the ground a little shamefaced. “I just.. didn’t think it would be that easy.” He muttered, “Excuse me for being a little surprised.”  


Astrid just gave a wry grin.

 

_You’re just gonna get more and more surprises the more you get to know him_ , she thought.

 

After a beat of letting this new knowledge sink in, allowing the relief to flow through his veins and relax the tense muscles in his shoulders, Jack asked her when he should be ready.

 

Grinning, Astrid told him that they would be leaving early the next morning, and to bundle up.

 

Where they were going, it was going to be far colder than it was in Burgess.

 

\---

 

Emma didn’t take the news well.

 

Much like the day he introduced her to the dragon, Jack supposed that he should’ve expected that reaction and been prepared for it. He _was_ expecting to have Emma being less than pleased with his decision, though, same with his mother. He just wasn’t prepared for it when the day came.

 

Jack didn’t tell his mother and Emma about his decision until the day before he told Astrid himself. They were finishing dinner and preparing to go to bed, cleaning up the kitchen, the table, sweeping the floors and adding a couple more logs of firewood to the fire, keeping their house toasty and warm. He’d spent several days mulling the little information he’d acquired from Astrid, the amount he received in the letter, and what his mother told him. Several of his nights were spent staring out into a moonlit or overcast night through the window, unable to sleep or do much else besides stare at the ceiling or the cracks in the window panes.

 

It was when he found his sister stoking the fire on a particularly cold morning, drawing a blanket around herself, that he made his decision.

 

(He’d dreamt of flying high above the clouds, among a flock of birds, hearing the roar of a great beast with scales and large wings the night before, and if it’d had any influence on his decision, he wouldn’t admit to it.)

 

He’d thrown the last of their logs into the fire when he turned, stood up straight, and told his mother and Emma of his decision.

 

“I’m going to say yes.”

 

Katherine was in the midst of cleaning a plate, and it fumbled in her hands, nearly shattering to the floor if not for her quick hands. Emma’s back was turned towards him as she swept the floor, and her back went rigid and straight. She didn’t turn to look at him, and Katherine looked at her son with wide gray eyes, clutching the plate. The tips of her fingers dug into the dinnerware and she blinked rapidly, digesting what her son just said to her.

 

“You--.. You’ve decided to accept?” She asked, her voice soft.

 

Swallowing, Jack nodded once.

 

Emma’s grip on the broom tightened.

 

Katherine just looked at her son, taking in his face and seeing the firm resolve in his brown eyes, his straightened and set shoulders and the stubborn clench of his jaw. She took it all in, and then she lowered the plate into the sink. She strode forward, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her grip was firm and tight. His brown eyes met hers and her mouth was set in a somber line.

 

“You’re sure?” She whispered.

 

Jack stared wordlessly back at her, then, he gave a slow nod. “Yes, I’m sure,” He said in a murmur.

 

Her grip on his shoulder tightened, as if he was smoke that was about to slip between her fingers and her jaw locked.

 

For a moment, Jack was worried that his mother was about to tell him to change his mind, but then, her face softened and she gave the smallest of faint smiles. It was sad, but it was proud and full of warmth. Her hand raised to his cheek and she once more marveled at how much her little boy had grown when she had to look up at him instead of down. Her smile widened even as the corner of her eyes felt a little sting.

 

“Very well, then. I’ll start helping you get prepared to leave.”

 

Jack blinked rapidly at his mother, stricken and taken aback, and her mouth quirked upwards in amusement at his wide-eyed reaction. He’s... not sure what he expected from his mother, but he figured that there would be at least a little more protest from his mother. But, as always, his mother had a knack for surprising him.

 

Her words echoed in his mind, of her letting him decide what he wanted to do with his life, and he smiled warmly at her. She smiled back and pat at his cheek.

 

The broom fell with a clatter as Emma’s feet stomped on the ground, turning around to give her brother a fierce, watery glare, the loud noise like a crack against the wooden floors making him jump and Katherine to jolt and look at her daughter in concern.

 

At the look on Emma’s face, one screwed with anger, hurt, and the threat of tears behind the fire of her hazel eyes, Katherine frowned and held back a sad sigh. This was what she was afraid of.

 

Katherine’s eyes closed, and Emma’s mouth parted.

 

“You’re going to leave? Just like that?” She said. Her brows, thick and brown were furrowed together and her hazel eyes were bright and angry. Her voice started off small, but it steadily rose in volume. Her fists were clenched at her sides and the broom was laid forgotten behind her.

 

Jack blinked rapidly and his brows furrowed. He pursed his lips, flinching a little at the obvious fury in his sister’s tone, and took a cautious step forward. He extended his hand towards Emma, trying to console her even as his throat felt dry and constricted.

 

“Emma--” He tried.

 

She wasn’t having it.

 

“I don’t want to hear it!” She shouted, taking her brother aback. “You’re leaving us!” Her voice cracked on the last syllable and Jack felt a lump in his throat start to form.

 

“E-Emma, no, it’s not like that--”

 

“Don’t lie! You said it yourself! You decided to say yes! You don’t even know this prince, you said yourself that you’ve never even met him before! And you’re still saying _yes_!?”

 

Katherine’s jaw locked and gave her daughter a hard stare. “ _Emma_ ,” she said firmly.

 

Emma glared at her mother and Jack both, shaking her head in utter disbelief.

 

Jack’s shoulders set and it was his turn to glare at his sister, the frustration already beginning to crop into his tone as he responded, “Maybe if you’d just hear me out, I could tell you why I’m going to say yes--”

 

“What? That you’re sick of living here?” She snapped, interrupting him. “That you’re tired of old, boring Burgess and your boring family? That you can’t wait to get out of here and never come back?”

 

Her brother stumbled back a bit, his brown eyes wide, as if he’d just been slapped. If she weren’t so angry, she would’ve felt ashamed and guilty for what she was saying. But she was blinded by her own hurt, anger, and confusion.

 

And maybe, just maybe. She was a little bit jealous.

 

There were so many things she was feeling, all conflicting against each other in a wild tempest and she didn’t know how to handle it. So, she yelled.

 

Jack felt his bottom lip tremble and he bit down at it, shaking his head and moving towards her. “Emma..” he croaked out. “Emma, that’s not it at all! If you would just _listen to me-_ -”

 

“No!” She said, resisting the urge to stomp her foot down on the floor like she was five again and Jack was teasing her by not telling her the ending to a new story. “I told you, I don’t wanna hear it! Just **go** already!”

 

Her voice cracked and the back of her eyes were stinging. When she glared at him, her eyes watery and bottom lip trembling, Jack stumbled back a few steps, feeling as if he’d just been punched in the stomach. Before she let him see her cry, she stormed towards her mother’s bedroom and slammed the door behind her, the wooden walls of their house shuddering from the impact.

 

Katherine and Jack were left in tense silence as the slamming of the door echoed around them.

 

Biting down hard on his bottom lip, Jack looked down at the floor. His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, gripping onto the sides of his trousers.

 

Katherine glanced between her son and her door, where Emma was sitting against inside her room, knees pulled up to her chest, face buried in her knees, and arms wrapped around them. Jack didn’t even look up when he felt a familiar hand grasp his shoulder and give it a little squeeze.

 

“You don’t need to tell me your reasoning right now,” she said. She rubbed her thumb in a circle against the bone of his slender shoulder. “And you don’t have to tell Emma, either. She’s... She’s just angry and confused right now. She’ll come around.”

 

Jack gave a non-committal noise, raising his eyes to his mother. His face was stricken, unsure of what to do and how to comfort his furious sister.

 

“...Do you think so?” He asked softly.

 

The hand squeezed his shoulder again. “She will.”

 

Katherine brought her son down to her level so that she could press a light kiss to his forehead. She brushed his bangs away from his eyes and told him to get some sleep. Emma would stay with her for the night; it was for the best that they both have some space from each other. Mother and son bid each other goodnight, and Jack was left alone with his thoughts and Emma’s angry words rattling about in his mind.

 

Finding her daughter huddled against the door, Katherine gently urged her daughter up and off of the floor, taking her daughter’s hands in her own. Emma surged forward and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, burying her face into her mother’s stomach. Katherine felt the tears against the front of her dress and she wrapped her arms tight around her daughter. She stroked at Emma’s soft, long brown hair and gave a shuddering breath.

 

Katherine closed her eyes and held her youngest close to her.

 

She would not cry in front of her daughter, but she would let Emma cry for the both of them.

 

\---

 

Emma refused to speak to him the morning after.

 

More than once did Jack consider telling her that he’d changed his mind and in fact wasn’t going to accept the proposal, but to do so would be a lie, and he could never lie to Emma. It would also be lying to himself; after her outburst, he did start to reconsider his choice, and he’d spent almost all night sitting at the table with only a single candlelight for company, thinking over his choices.

 

To leave with Emma so angry at him, so hurt, was not how he wanted to go.

 

The child in himself, the child that paid so much contribution to who he was as a person, both wanted to stay and be with Emma and his mother, for them to know just how much he loved them, and wanted to go, to see parts of the world he’d never ventured to. He’d never left Burgess, not even once, and the child in him was restless.

 

But more than anything else, Jack wanted to make sure that his family was happy, content, and at peace. He wanted them to want for nothing, to never have to worry about putting food on the table or having his mother put together a few coins just so she could buy fabric to make new clothes for him, to patch up his trousers and his cloak. He wanted Emma to never feel guilty for having finished her first plate and yet still desiring more, still hungry.

 

Jack wanted to provide everything possible for his family, but he was only one man, if barely a man at that. The fear of never being completely able to provide for his sister and his mother was a constant one.

 

And yet.

 

Someone was willing to provide that for his family when he couldn’t. Someone who would feel no real loss in providing security and comfort for his family, who seemed to be genuine in his offer and in his promise.

 

His family being provided for was a guarantee, how could he say no to that.

 

And if Astrid were to be believed, then they could now live their lives without worry. 

 

When he went to bed that night, it was with a firm, sad resolve.

 

He didn’t change his mind, and the morning next, he went to the campsite and told Astrid of his choice.

 

Perhaps, along the way, as his family was provided for by someone more powerful than he, he could find himself, just like his mother wanted him to.

 

\---

 

They were leaving early the next morning, Astrid told him. At the crack of dawn, the first break of sunlight through the grey clouds, and she told him to pack everything that he could need, to not to worry about the weight his things could have. Their transportation to Berk could carry them with ease.

 

When Jack asked what kind of transportation they would be taking, giving her a dubious stare at the lack of hoof prints in the snow and the frozen dirt, she grinned at him and told him to have some patience; he would see.

 

He’d huffed and given her a displeased stare, which only made her grin more.

 

She grinned as if she was hiding some delicious sort of secret and it was infuriating.

 

Only a little more infuriating was that he was going to have to wake up quite early the next morning. Jack was no morning person, as his mother knew all too well; her son was a challenge to wake in the morning, and he was often quite grumpy as well. Emma often had to drag her lug of an older brother out of bed in the morning. He was never eager to leave the comfortable warmth of his bed and his sheets.

 

The trouble was, Jack wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to sleep tonight.

 

They’d already had dinner, and it was a tense, quiet affair. Emma refused to look at him, every stab of her fork into her veal was vicious, angry, and it made Jack wince. He tried to needle her into speaking to him through small questions about her day, how she and their mother were coming along with the new quilt they were sewing together, even suggesting that they go outside for a while to build a snowman. But she pursed her lips together, chewed on her veal, looked down at her plate and refused to say a single word.

 

There were red rims around her eyes, and Jack’s chest felt tight.

 

Katherine ran the tip of her finger over the rim of her cup, gazing into her water and thinking of how quiet the house would be once her son left the next morning.

 

Emma’d barely touched her food before she laid down her fork and knife, quietly told her mother goodnight, that she was going to bed, and she got up from the table, the legs of the chair moaning from her movement against the floor, then she disappeared behind her mother’s bedroom door before Jack could interject and stop her.

 

The forced grin on his lips dropped and with a heavy sigh, he folded his arms on the surface of the table and rested his forehead on his arms.

 

He felt his mother patting at his brown mess of hair, teasing him that the tips of his hair still felt like tips of ice and commented that if he wasn’t careful enough, his hair might turn white. He’d given a small smile into his arm, but it was temporary. Silence passed between mother and son and she said that she would talk to Emma, to convince her to speak to her brother. She would not let her children part on a bad note, much as she understood Emma’s anger and hurt; Katherine wanted to see her son and her daughter smile at each other and at least say their goodbyes properly before Jack left.

 

Katherine wanted to talk to her son, too, before tomorrow morning.

 

He’d looked up at his mother, doubt heavy on his face, but he nodded once, and she smiled, kissed his cheek and left to her room, closing the door behind her.

 

And now, here he was, most of his things packed in a modest sized bag and laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he tried to calm his racing, anxious heart.

 

He glanced out the window again and saw a sliver of the moon from behind a roll of gray cloud. The muscles in his back relaxed and he closed his eyes. He laid there for several minutes, eyes closed but unable to sleep, and reached one hand out for his staff, bringing it forward to lay it across his chest. He rubbed his thumb over the familiar wood and thought of thin, slender fingers hoisting him up onto lean shoulders and his father’s soft voice telling him the names of the constellations that dotted the skies the same moon inhabited.

 

His father’s voice was soft, higher pitched than what what most would expect to come from such a tall man, almost always in a whisper or just above a murmur.

 

Jack wondered what his father would say if he could see him now, if he knew where he was leaving to the morning next.

 

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and opening his eyes, Jack glanced towards the door. He sat up and laid the staff on his lap, his hands folded over it and bare feet left to graze the cold wooden floor. He gave a small frown at the sound of another knock; it had to be his mother. Emma didn’t knock.

 

“It’s open, you can come in.”

 

And just as he thought, Katherine poked her head through the door and gave her son a smile. She closed the door behind her and she walked towards the end of his bed, standing before him. She gestured towards the empty seat beside him.

 

“May I sit?”

 

Jack stared up at his mother, gave a small shrug, and scooted to the side to give her some more space. Smiling, she sat down next to him and gave a small pat to his knee.

 

Katherine glanced at the leather bag filled with Jack’s things and frowned. She turned to look back at her son, finding him looking down at his feet and toeing invisible drawings into the surface of the wooden floor.

 

Jack broke the silence between them and asked, “Is she still angry at me?” His voice was soft and his brows were furrowed in conflict.

 

The frown was heavy on Katherine’s lips and she sighed. “I think she’s more confused and hurt more than anything, but she **is** angry. I will not lie about that.”

 

He huffed through his nose and drew a leg up from the edge of the bed, bringing it in close to his chest and he laid his chin on top of his knee. An arm wrapped around his leg and he gave a wry, mirthless grin.

 

“I figured. She came by earlier and then left without saying a word to me. Not a chance that she’s not going to still be mad at me by tomorrow morning.”

 

He laughed and it was hollow in his throat.

 

Katherine’s frown only grew heavier and with a sigh, she reached over to give a little pinch to the tip of her son’s nose. He gave a little yelp, rubbed at it and gave her a half-hearted, tired glare, a petulant downward turn of his lips. She only frowned at him in return.

 

“She’s angry at you because she feels like you’re abandoning her, like you’re leaving her behind. Of course she’s angry at you, Jack.”

 

Brown eyes widened and he looked at his mother in aghast disbelief. “I’m-- I’m not-- I’m not abandoning her! How could she even think that--” His hands clenched in tight fists on top of his legs as his other lowered back to the floor, his eyes angrily furrowed together in confusion. “It’s not like I’m never coming back!”

 

He didn’t see his mother’s eyes widen.

 

He didn’t hear the sharp intake at her breath at the implication that tomorrow morning would not be the last time she would see her son again. Katherine’s heart raced but she did not express it on her face, keeping it calm and controlled, and instead pressed her palm on the crook of Jack’s elbow, drawing his attention again.

 

“I think she knows that you’d never willingly abandon her, but she’s angry and confused because your decision to say yes to the proposal, well...” She gave pause, and continued softly. “..It came as a shock for her. I don’t think she thought you would say yes.”

 

_Katherine_ didn’t think her son would say yes.

 

She remembered the year before vividly, how he’d gotten so angry at the mere suggestion that he leave home to begin an apprenticeship, made to feel as if his mother didn’t want him at home anymore, even though that hadn’t been, and still wasn’t, the case at all. Jack and Emma were rather similar in that regard; jumping to conclusions out of hurt and confusion due to a misunderstanding.

 

(Her husband would’ve said that both of their children inherited that temperament from her, a teasing smile on his lips.)

 

“Well, I did say yes, and now she hates me,” he said glumly.

 

Katherine gave an aggravated sigh and frowned at her son. “Jack, don’t be silly. Emma doesn’t hate you. She loves you, and you ought to know that by now. She’s angry **because** she loves you, and she doesn’t want you to leave her.”

 

Jack glanced at his mother and then looked down at the floor. His brows were knit together and he bit his bottom lip. “I know that,” he murmured. “I know she does. I just...” Groaning, his head lowered and he ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling the brown locks. “I just wish she could understand that I’m not abandoning her.”

 

His mother rubbed at his shoulder blades in soothing circles. “..You said that you would be able to come back and visit, didn’t you?”

 

He glanced at her. “..Yeah. It was, kind of the first condition I had to saying yes.” He gave a flicker of a grin. “As if I’d accept any proposal that kept me from seeing my family again.”

 

Katherine’s brow raised. “And they’re letting you?”

 

His grin was devious and sharp. “Like anyone could stop me from coming back to visit.”

 

His mother returned his grin with a small one of her own, proud and full of relief. _That’s my boy_ , she thought.

 

Even if he wasn’t that much of a boy anymore.

 

She could feel the muscles in his back, saw them when he moved his arms underneath the sleeves of his clothing, the defined features of his face, his cheekbones and the strong set of his jaw. Jack was a slender, lithe young man, but he’d gotten tall and helping her and Emma around the house made him strong. His face and eyes were still full of youth, and she could see the traces of a mischievous boy who hated putting on boots in wintertime and ran through the snow, snow sticking to his bare feet, but he was no boy anymore.

 

It was something that was both painful to think about and filled her with pride.

 

She rubbed at his back with her palm and lowered it. “Then, perhaps you should tell her that yourself. Maybe then, she’ll understand that you don’t intend on abandoning her or that you’ll just disappear.”

 

He gave a soft snort and a dubious look. “Is she even willing to talk to me?”

 

Doubtful.

 

“Oh,” his mother said airily. “Don’t worry. She will be.”

 

He raised an eyebrow at his mother, but she only smiled, pat at his shoulder and stood up. She walked out of his room, telling him to stay put, and that’s just what he did, staring after his mother in confusion. Through the walls, he thought he could hear what sounded like muttering, a groan of disagreement, and then a sharp retort. Grumbling followed, and Jack heard the creak of the opposite door down the hall, then the sound of footsteps. They paused in front of his door, and Jack raised his eyebrows. He tilted his head and saw a pair of socked feet standing in the doorway. 

 

A small hand settled on the side of the door and pushed it open, revealing the pinched expression on Emma’s face. Her brows were set low, knitted together and her lips were in a heavy frown, which only made Jack smile faintly. She glared down at the floor.

 

He wondered what his mother said to convince her to talk to him.

 

“Hey, Emma,” he said softly.

 

Hazel eyes lifted to him. Her frown didn’t fade.

 

Jack shifted on the bed to look at her properly. The corner of his mouth was quirked upward. “Feel up for talking to me, now?”

 

Grunting, she crossed her arms across her chest and gave a shrug. “Not like mom’s giving me much of a choice,” she muttered.

 

Well. He would take what he could get.

 

Jack pat at the blanket, inviting Emma to sit next to him on the edge of their shared bed. She stared at it before slowly walking towards the edge of the bed, plopping herself on top of it, but keeping a distance from her brother. The sight made him frown briefly, but he didn’t reach out towards her and kept his hands in his lap. The sound of the light wind creaking against the window filled the silence and both brother and sister stared at the floor. Jack glanced at his sister, and Emma didn’t look at him. Her hands were in her lap, clenched into fists, and her mouth was set in a heavy frown.

 

It took nearly a minute before Jack could bring himself to speak.

 

“...I’m not abandoning you or mom, Emma,” he said quietly, looking at the tips of his toes.

 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. The disbelief was written all over her face.

 

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “I didn’t say yes because I hate living here or because I’m tired of being here with you and mom. That’s not it at all. I--” He sucked in a breath. “I love being here with you and mom, this is our home. How could I not love living here?” He gave a faint grin. “Why do you think mom and I got in such a fuss when she tried to get me to take an apprenticeship?”

 

She turned her head to look at him, the frown still on her lips. “Then, why did you say yes if you don’t want to leave us? Why would you leave home if you love it so much?”

 

He didn’t answer right away.

 

The grin fell off of his lips and his eyes lowered to his laps, where his hands were folded together. His thumbs fiddled with each other as he collected his thoughts, and then he closed his eyes.

 

“.. He promised that you and mom would be well taken care of should I say yes. That he would provide for your every need.” 

 

He grinned and it was slightly strained.

 

“A prince can do far better than a mere shepherd can when it comes to providing for ones family, Emma. How could I say no?”

 

It wasn’t something he liked admitting to himself.

 

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, and then they widened with realization. She stared at her brother, mouth agape. “That’s why you said yes...?”

 

Wordless, he glanced upwards towards her from the floor. The forced grin on his lips had fallen, and he gave her a single nod.

 

The angry set of Emma’s brows relaxed and she looked down at the floor, now feeling guilty for getting so angry at him, but Jack’s answer and reason for why he said yes only brought more questions to mind.

 

One being quite more pertinent than the others.

 

“What about the prince?” She blurted.

 

A flush grew on her cheeks when Jack paused and looked at her, lifting his chin just centimeters above the palm of his hand, where it’d been resting.

 

“...What about him?” He asked slowly.

 

Emma thought she saw pink dusting the tip of his nose.

 

“Well, I mean, you _did_ say yes to his proposal,” she said flatly. The pink dust on his nose darkened. “Aren’t you at all curious about.. uh.. what was his name..?”

 

“Hakon,” Jack said simply, unable to quite look her in the eye.

 

“Yes, him. Because-- I mean, he’s a prince!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands out.

 

“Okay, we’ve established that he’s a prince for, the tenth time, I think,” Jack said, unsure of where this was going. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything--”  
  
She cut him off with an annoyed huff and half-hearted glare. “Everything, you jerk!”

 

“Hey-!”

 

She turned to face him completely and crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that really the only reason you said yes? Because he’s gonna take care of us if you do?”

 

Jack didn’t answer. He only looked down at his lap and scratched the back of his neck.

 

“And you’re not atall curious about him?”

 

Emma was still trying to wrap her head around the idea of her brother, who was once so adamant about staying home regardless of what their mother wanted him to do with his life, agreeing to marry someone he didn’t know not out of love, but because of an offering the prince made.

 

“Geez, Emma,” Jack mumbled, the pink spreading to his cheeks. “It’s not like I’ve actually gotten a chance to speak to any royalty before, let alone meet a prince, ‘course I’m curious.”

 

“And you’re agreeing to marry him even though you don’t know him or love him.”

 

Silence.

 

The frown on her lips was heavy and she scooted closer to him, her anger not completely subsided, but softened and more controlled. “Jack,” she said quietly.

 

He gave a faint grin at the admonishment in her tone, so much older sounding than her tender age would present itself as, and much wiser, too. But it was small and did not last long.

 

“Not everyone gets to marry the one they love, Emma,” he said, voice soft. He looked down at his hands and rubbed his fingers together. “Some people get married out of necessity, political reasons, some kind of deal between families, anything else they can come up with. People don’t always marry for love.”

 

“...Mom and Dad did,” Emma said, scooting close enough that she could lean against his side.

 

She didn’t see the way he winced and bit his bottom lip at the mention of the father she only faintly remembered, the father he remembered with vivid clarity. But she felt his arm looping around her shoulder and drawing her close. She closed her eyes and curled up against him. He lightly ruffled her hair and smiled sadly.

 

“Yeah, they did,” He said. “They were lucky like that.”

 

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Do you...”

 

“Hm?” He hummed, glancing down at her.

 

Emma hesitated, then continued. “Do you think you _could_ love him? You know, once you two actually meet?”

 

From what she’d heard when their mother read the letter out loud, it certainly _seemed_ like the prince loved her brother, even though she was sure that they’d never met before (or maybe it was like with the dragon, when he hid the dragon from her and didn’t tell her about him right away, wanting to keep the dragon to himself, and it hurt to think about there being another thing that Jack was hiding from her when they shared everything together, though that didn’t appear to be the case.) She’d always pictured her brother marrying some girl or guy from the village he’d get all stupid over, and then he’d either live in the house with his new family or build a new one.

 

Getting married to a prince was something she never could’ve imagined.

 

Her eyebrows raised and her mouth quirked just the slightest at the corners when she saw Jack’s face flush. He cleared his throat, looking away, and she smothered a giggle.

 

“Uh, well,” He coughed, his usually pale face now quite red. “I mean, I-I _could,_ maybe-- but--”

 

Now, she couldn’t help but grin, small as it was, and raised her eyebrow at her brother, who tried to regain his composure despite how flustered he was. It was rather uncharacteristic of her brother, who always had something to say about anything, and it was kind of hilarious to her. It was kind of the first time anyone had asked about.. well, that part of the arrangement, and he’d been perfectly content to avoid talking about it.

 

But of course Emma couldn’t allow him that.

 

“We’ll-!” He started, paused, then coughed into his fist and cleared his throat again, willing his flush to ease away. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

 

Emma gave a soft snort, unable to keep the grin from twitching on her lips. “Okay, Jack.”

 

He glanced at her, and his lips quirked upward. “Hey, you’re smiling at me again, I’ll take that in my favor.”

 

Already falling back into a sense of normality with her brother, she rolled her eyes and nudged his side with her shoulder. “Don’t get all big-headed on me, jerk.”

 

He gave a toothy grin and laughed. “I’ll try not to, dumb-dumb.”

 

A hip bumped against his. “ _Jerk_.”

 

Laughing, Jack ruffled at her hair, much to her protest. A comfortable silence passed between them as brother and sister bored into the moonlight night sky, taking in the comfort of their shared bedroom. Emma’s smile fell as she remembered that this would be the last night her brother would share a room with her. Tomorrow he would hop on a horse or something, leave Burgess and find a new home in Berk. And she wasn’t sure if she would ever see her brother again after tomorrow morning.

 

Her grip, grasping his shirt, tightened and she burrowed closer against her brother. Brown eyes looked down and he frowned. A hand raised to gently rub at the top of her head. He leaned down and gave her a warm smile.

 

“Hey, Em,” He said. “Don’t get all sad on me, okay? It’s not like I’m never going to come and visit you and mom.”

 

How he somehow managed to read her mind, Emma would never know. It was kind of eerie how well he knew her. She looked up at him.

 

“Are you really going to come and visit us?” Her eyes narrowed a little at his nod, brows set. “Even though you’ll be living in Berk?”

 

Jack rolled his eyes and huffed with laughter, a grin quirked on his lips. “C’mon, Emma, do you really think that even a _prince_ could keep me away from my two favorite ladies?” His grin widened and he winked. “It might’ve been the first condition I’d given for saying yes.”

 

She stared.

 

“You bartered with people who work for a _prince_? And you **won**?”

 

Jack smirked.

 

Emma burst out laughing.

 

Katherine’s finger paused in turning the page of her book at the sound of her two children laughing in the room next door. Gray eyes glanced towards her door and then closed. She smiled, opened them again and turned to the next page of her book. All was right.

 

Once their laughter calmed down to little chortles, Emma gave a sleepy yawn and Jack remembered that his bag and staff were still on the bed. He moved them, placing his bag at the end of the bed and left his staff to stand by the windowsill. He let his fingers linger on the wood before moving back to the bed, where Emma was already curling up on the bed underneath the blankets. He changed quickly into his sleeping clothes and then crawled underneath the blankets himself. Emma was warm beside him and she was already drifting off, mumbling unintelligible things under her breath. He smiled and spread his one arm out, over her head on the pillow, the other tucked underneath his head. Brown eyes stared up at the ceiling, and the smile slowly fell away.

 

Jack turned his head to look at the moon beaming through the clouds when he heard Emma’s even breathing next to him, and as he stared at the moon’s light, seeing the little man sitting on the edge of the moon, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

 

Sleep overcame him and as he drifted into his strange dreams of bare feet barely grazing the water of a half-frozen river, geese and swans fluttering all around him as they taught him to fly, he heard the voice of the one who’d saved him from the icy water only a year ago.

 

He fell asleep to the sound of the voice calling his name.

 

The voice felt safe.

 

\---

 

Fishlegs and Astrid were sleeping, the fire was low, and Stormfly and Meatlug were breathing even breaths as they sat guard by the tents of their riders, sleeping alongside their companions. The campsite was almost completely packed up, all being left was to pack up the tents themselves in the morning, along with several other little things.

 

Out of his own tent, further into the woods and away from his friends, he took out a large saddle and laid it by the campfire, propped against a log they used. He ran his fingers along the leather, slow and steady, a tight expression on his face.

 

Bottle green eyes blinked and with a light nudge against his rider’s back, Toothless gave a concerned warble. His rider gave a little jump of the shoulders at the sudden touch, lost in his own thoughts, and looked over his shoulder. He smiled and rubbed at the dragon’s nose.

 

“I’m fine, bud, don’t be such a worrywort.” He grinned.

 

Toothless gave him a half-lidded stare and snorted in his rider’s face, the puff of warm air soothing against his exposed skin. He batted his messy bangs out of his eyes and flicked at the dragon’s nose, making the dragon grunt.

 

“Really, I’m fine! I’m just,” he shrugged and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Kinda nervous, you know.” 

 

He gave a shy grin, then it began to fall.

 

“Didn’t think he was actually gonna say yes...”

 

The tips of his ears burned red and the dragon gave a concerned warble and laid his chin on his rider’s shoulder. The rider let the side of his head fall against Toothless’s snout, closing his eyes at the feeling of the dark scales on his skin. He scratched underneath Toothless’ jaw.

 

“Do you think he’ll even _like_ me?” He whispered, his brows furrowed thick and thoughtful, his frown heavy and uncertain.

 

Toothless blinked his large, catlike green eyes at his rider and cooed lowly in his ear. The corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

 

“I appreciate your confidence in me.”

 

The dragon’s mouth parted into a gummy grin and, now finally able to relax despite the racing stutter of his heart, he shifted and leaned back against the dragon, his back pressed against the dragon’s side. Toothless unfolded his wing and wrapped it around his rider’s shoulders, and with a smile, Hiccup let his head fall back against the warm scales. He looked up at the moon, remembering how bright it’d been that night he’d actually touched Jack with his own two human hands, pulling him out of the ice cold water.

 

A hand raised and he rubbed his fingers together and frowned, a familiar guilt clenched tight in his chest.

 

“Sorry for being away for so long, Jack,” he whispered. Then, he covered his face with his palms and groaned, making Toothless’ ear fins twitch and eyes slit open. “Gods, he’s gonna be mad tomorrow..”

 

Toothless raised his head and trilled in question. Green eyes glanced back at him, smile wry and sheepish.

 

“Well, I _did_ kinda disappear on him for a whole year, it might come as a bit of a shock.”

 

The dragon sniffed and lowered his head back down, curling his front legs against himself. His rider smiled and pat at the dragon’s side. The dragon soon fell to sleep, and his tail twitched languidly as he did, catching the rider’s attention. He looked at the tail and the prosthetic tailfin attached to it. He frowned and rubbed at the dragon’s side in apology.

 

“..I’m sorry, Toothless, I know you hate flying without me, but it’ll look strange if he sees four dragons in the day, and then only three at night,” he murmured.

 

Toothless would have to linger behind them, making sure that no one followed them or spotted him during the nighttime when he was most vulnerable. He couldn’t be seen, not by anyone. Hopefully, the ride home wouldn’t be too long, or else Fishlegs and Astrid would have a difficult time explaining where the fourth dragon had gone at night, and where the fourth rider had come from.

 

No, he wanted to introduce Jack to Toothless properly, back on Berk, where he could let Jack absorb how different Berk is now from all the stories he’d been told as a child. He still remembered the stories, and the memory made him smile and chuckle to himself; well, they at least got some things right, particularly the sturdiness of Berk’s inhabitants.

 

But of course, as much as he wanted a quiet return to Berk so as to not overwhelm his new... fiance (oh gods his face felt hot already just thinking it, and there was a nervous flutter in his stomach that made him fidget a little) more than he already would be, his parents just _had_ to make a spectacle out of his homecoming and bringing home his new beau.

 

Now he had no idea what kind of first impression Jack is going to have of his home, but he hoped it’s a good one. Though it would’ve been better if his father weren’t so adament on giving Jack the proper royal welcome.

 

His mother had rolled her eyes fondly, pat at his covered cheek, and told him to just let his father have this one, should Jack say yes.

 

By the letter that Sharpshot had given him, his father’s response to Jack’s decision had been utterly ecstatic and he was already making preparations.

 

Oh boy.

 

Tomorrow night was... going to be a long one.

 

But for now, despite all of his thoughts racing in his mind and the thrumming beat of his heart, he had to sleep. Hopefully, the weather would be in their favor and he wouldn’t get too worn out from both a lack of sleep and the journey ahead.

 

Sleep did not come easy, but when it did, he dreamt of the sun glittering off of the water as he and Toothless darted through the sky, feeling the cold wind on his face and a smooth fingered hand in his own. He thought of a deep laugh filled with joy and fun, and he slept.

 

\---

 

Jack woke up the next morning just as the sun was beginning to rise and found Emma curled underneath his arm, having moved towards each other for warmth as they slept. Groaning, Jack rubbed the sleep crusted out of his eyes and squinted at the light coming through the window. His entire body felt heavy and slow as he attempted to move his legs to the edge of the bed, taking longer than he thought it would. He nearly stumbled as he pushed himself off of the bed, and he closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to wake himself up.

 

Emma groaned in her sleep, turned over, and pulled the sheets over her head. He gave a sleepy grin at the sight and didn’t have the heart to wake her up. He could hear the sound of his mother moving about the kitchen, the boiling pot of water, and the tea steaming through the hallway. She was already up.

 

Of course she’d be up. Katherine would never let her son go without seeing him off or making him sure that he’d had a full breakfast.

 

The sleep eased away as the sun slowly began to rise, and it finally began to sink in.

 

He was leaving today.

 

In just an hour or two, he’d be off to Berk, and land he’d been sure didn’t even exist anymore. Off to be betrothed to a prince.

 

It was still hard to believe.

 

Jack looked on at his sleeping sister for another minute or two, still in the process of waking up, before he changed into a clean set of clothes, leaving aside his boots, his scarf, and his cloak. He still wasn’t sure how they were going to get to Berk, but he was sure he’d need to bundle up. Astrid did warn him that it was going to be colder where they were going. Once he was changed, he slowly trekked into the kitchen, still part-asleep, and his mother looked up from the porridge she was stirring.

 

She smiled and there was warmth and sadness in it.

 

“Good morning, Jack.”

 

He smiled back. “Mornin’, Mom.”

 

Jack poured himself a bowl of porridge and Katherine went to their room to wake her daughter up. He pretended not to notice how red the rims of her eyes were, or how she sniffled every now and then. Emma was dazed and still half-asleep when their mother gently pushed her towards the kitchen and set her down at the table, and Jack slid her a filled bowl. The smell of cinnamon and sugar woke her up some, and she slowly began eating, the energy coming to her slow and gradual.

 

When he got a moment, he murmured to his mother to see if she could send Emma back to bed once he was.. well.

 

Knowing how hard her daughter was going to take it once the third member of their household was gone, Emma might prefer the comfort of their shared bedroom, or it could be too much for her and she would seclude herself to her mother’s bedroom.

 

It wasn’t something Katherine was looking forward to.

 

She supposed that she should prepare herself for just how quiet it would be without her son there.

 

..Oh, who was she trying to fool? She would would never be prepared for it.

 

Breakfast was quiet, warm murmurs filling the early morning as all three gradually began to wake up, and Jack swirled his spoon in his half-finished porridge aimlessly. His stomach was too tight and too nervous to eat or feel hungry, and the little amount of food in his stomach was already churning in discomfort. Merely looking at his food was starting to make him feel queasy.

 

He kept looking out the window, waiting for a sign of something. Of Astrid, Fishlegs, a horse, whatever it might be, but something telling him that it was time to go. But whenever he looked, he only saw the snow.

 

It was nearly an hour before they heard the knock on the door.

 

Katherine’d already taken away their dishes, Emma was cleaning them and Jack was pacing the living room in front of the fireplace. He fiddled with the end of his shirt and his fingers kept twitching. Emma and her mother shared an exasperated look; he’d been doing that for the past ten minutes, and it was getting annoying.

 

But Katherine could understand why her son was so nervous.

 

When the knock rammed on the door, short but firm, all breath was caught and Jack nearly stumbled where he stood, mid-step and taken off-guard. Widened brown eyes locked on the door, and Jack swallowed hard.

 

Blood rushed in his ears and with a deep breath, Jack strode over to open the door, flinching at the glaring white snow piercing into his still sleepy eyes, and found himself squinting at a much too awake looking Astrid’s face.

 

She gave him a once-over, nodded, and then looked at the two other women in the house. She smiled, sympathetic, and then looked at Jack. Her grin was a faint one.

 

“You ready?”

 

His grin was half-way formed and strained. “As I’ll ever be,” he said.

 

His stomach flip-flopped and oh gods if he couldn’t calm himself down, he was going to be tasting his partly digested porridge in his mouth all over again. And in front of Berkians attending a prince. Gods help him keep his stomach calm once he actually meets him.

 

Astrid hummed, her grin softening, and she nodded. She glanced at his mother and sister and murmured, “I’ll give you a few more minutes,” looked over her shoulder to nod at Fishlegs and then moved away from the doorway.

 

Sucking in a deep breath, Jack closed his eyes, and gave a shuddering exhale. He turned around to see his mother and his sister standing by the table. Katherine’s hand was on Emma’s shoulder, and his sister was biting down hard on her bottom lip, looking up at him. A lump formed in his throat and his chest clenched tightly. His eyes were starting to sting and he blinked it out.

 

He was grateful that Astrid was nice enough to leave them alone for a few minutes. He didn’t want her to see him crying and think he was weak, or that he was changing his mind at the last second.

 

A watery smile twitched on his lips and he held his palms out. “What? Not gonna send me off without a hug at least?” He joked.

 

Emma glared at him and muttered something under her breath before she dove forward and wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her head in his lower chest. He wrapped his arms tight around her in an instant, and neither brother nor sister said a word as they embraced, tight, warm and firm. He didn’t even feel the cool breeze from the open doorway.

 

She nuzzled her cheek into his chest and Jack rubbed his palm into her upper back in small circles. His eyes were clenched shut and he willed himself not to cry.

 

“You better come and visit, or I’ll hunt you down and kick your butt,” she said, her voice muffled against his cloak.

 

He grinned into the top of her head. “All the way to Berk?”

 

She moved her head to give him a teary eyed glare. “All the way to Berk.”

 

He huffed a laugh through his nose and she grinned despite the wet streaks rolling down her chin.

 

“Well, against such a proclamation, how could I say no? Besides,” He grinned, “Who else am I gonna beat in a snowball fight every time with?”

 

She smacked his chest lightly and told him to shut up, mumbling it into his chest, making him snicker. It was enough for him to forget about the tears he was holding back, and he gave her a light squeeze. Emma was reluctant to let go of him, but she moved back a couple steps, one hand still clutching his cloak, and Jack let his arms fall away from her. Then, it was Katherine’s turn. She walked up to him and cupped his face in her hands. Silently, she brushed her chin against his cheekbone and Jack saw just how red her eyes were. His chest tightened and the lump in his throat returned.

 

With a smile, Katherine leaned in and kissed his forehead.

 

“Travel safely,” she whispered.

 

Jack closed his eyes. “I will.”

 

Emma took a couple steps back to let her mother and Jack embrace, soon joining them. All three members of the family held each other for several long minutes, and when they finally pulled away, it was slow and reluctant. Katherine adjusted his cloak and wrapped a scarf around his neck, shaking her head and telling him that he ought to make sure that he was bundled up. He rolled his eyes with a smile and told his mother that of course he would.

 

Jack picked up his bag in one hand and carried his staff in the other (he wasn’t leaving home without it) and started to make his way towards the door, when his mother stopped him briefly.

 

“Before you go, take this.” She put a small box in his open palm and he raised an eyebrow at her. She smiled. “Don’t open it until you reach Berk, all right?”

 

Jack blinked, laughed and then narrowed his eyes playfully. “Sure, all right, mom.”

 

With a shake of his head, smiling, he put the little box in his bag and set aside his natural born curiosity, then picked his bag back up again. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out his door.

 

Astrid and Fishlegs were waiting a few meters away from the house, talking to each other under their breath, but looked at him when he walked towards them. He held his shoulders straight and set his jaw, not showing his nervousness to either of them.

 

Fishleg’s smile was small but kind. “Everything ready?”

 

He shrugged his shoulder. “Unless there’s something else I need to do, I’m ready.”

 

He and Astrid shared a grin. “Great!”

 

“So, uh,” he started. He glanced around the valley, seeing no horses or even a carriage. “How exactly _are_ we going to get to Berk in the first place?”

 

Jack felt a little unnerved when the two Berkians shared a pair of smirks. It was a strange thing to see on Fishleg’s large, rotund and kind face, normally so meek looking (especially around his mother).

 

Neither said anything, but Fishlegs shifted on his feet and raised his fingers to his mouth. A sharp whistle rang out through the white fields, making Jack wince at the noise. Lowering his hands from his ears, he blinked and waited for the sound of horses trotting along the ground.

 

But he didn’t hear anything.

 

Emma and Katherine, draped in shawls and blankets, raised an eyebrow at each other.

 

There was nothing for the first minute, but then--

 

The sound of large wings beating in the air.

 

The rustle of the trees in the distance, shaking the snow on the branches of the pines.

 

And then, a roar.

 

Two roars.

 

Three mouths opened in stunned gasps as a pair of dragons flew out of the woods. Katherine’s hands raised to her mouth, her gray eyes widened in shock and slight terror, and Emma’s open mouth widened into a delighted grin.

 

Jack was just gaping stupidly.

 

One of the two dragons was small, portly, colored in dark browns and earthly colors with what seemed like warts on its back, and a clubbed tail. The dragon’s tongue was lolling out much like a large dog would, and her eyes were a dark yellow and seemed rather friendly. The other was several times larger, bipedal, and colored with sky blue scales and dots of other colors on her wings, yellow spikes laid flat on her tail and tusks on her skull. She reminded Jack of a bird, like a falcon or those colorful, exotic birds he would see in books.

 

The blue dragon squawked in delight at the sight of her rider, and she landed next to Astrid, while the other dragon perched next to Fishlegs and raised a back leg to scratch behind her ear. Fishlegs cooed and hugged the dragon while Astrid rubbed her palm on the snout of the other dragon, just below the horn.

 

Their purrs and coos filled the air and Jack was only left in stunned silence.

 

Astrid gave him a wide, toothy grin. “ _This_ is how we’re going back to Berk.”

 

“Oh,” Jack squeaked.

 

Astrid and Fishlegs both smothered the snickers at the look on his face.

 

Emma was just in awe, her attention primarily on the blue dragon. She was so pretty and colorful! And she was so different looking from the auburn dragon that used to visit them! The other dragon was even more different! And she seemed rather friendly, if the licking of Fishlegs was any indication.

 

Katherine was at a loss for words.

 

Learning that Berk still existed was one thing, a prince of Berk proposing to her son was another, but this? This was sheer madness.

 

“Are-- Are those-- _Dragons_?” She breathed.

 

The two Berkians whipped their gazes towards the wide-eyed older woman and their grins fell. Fishlegs turned pale and Astrid looked between her dragon and the older woman. Both looked at each other and flinched.

 

Oh, right. They completely forgot.

 

Jack and Emma already knew about dragons and how friendly they could be. Katherine didn’t.

 

...Oops.

 

The two dragons blinked and cocked their heads at each other.

 

Emma was fixated on the blue dragon, admiring the colorful scales on her wings, and made to move forward. Only to be barred by her mother’s arm.

 

“Emma! Stay back!” She shouted, the noise making the dragons jolt and drawing back Jack’s attention. “Jack! _Get back over here_ \--!”

 

Finally pulled out of his daze at the sight of dragons because oh gods they were flying to Berk on _dragons_ , Jack turned around to face his mother and waved his hands and arms, trying to calm her down.

 

“Mom! Mom, no! They won’t hurt you! Trust me!”

 

“Jack!” His mother shouted, her gray eyes blazing and terrified. “They’re **_dragons_**!”

 

_This sounds familiar_ , Jack mused.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know they’re dragons! But just trust me mom! They won’t hurt you or me! They’re perfectly nice and friendly!”

 

“Are you out of your **mind** \--”

 

“Um, ma’am, I can assure you, no harm will come to Jack, these dragons have been trained and they’re practically harmless,” Fishlegs interjected, moving to stand beside Jack. He squeaked when Katherine glared fiercely at him, daggers in her eyes.

 

How was this woman not a valkyrie? She could easily pass for one.

 

“Do you really think I’m going to take _your_ word for it? That I’ll just let you feed my son to _dragons_ \--!?”

 

“Actually, they eat fish,” Emma quipped from behind her mother. “I’ve never seen a dragon eat anything besides fish.”

 

Blinking, Katherine gaped at her daughter. Emma grinned in pride at knowing her dragon facts so well by now.

 

“Emma,” She breathed. “Why do you know that?”

 

The grin fell quickly off of her face. She glanced at her brother and they shared a guilty look. Katherine’s stare hardened as she stared at her children and they wilted under her stare. Jack in particular looked quite guilty.

 

“ **How** do you know that?”

 

“Um,” Jack said. He tried for a smile. “I can explain?”

 

“I’m sure you can,” she said, her tone pure steel.

 

The two Berkians exchanged slightly frantic stares and Astrid looked at the sun steadily rising higher and higher, frowning; they were losing time with this. While it would be proper to explain to Katherine about the dragons and show her that they mean no harm, they couldn’t afford to lose daylight. Losing daylight meant time lost, and losing daylight before they reached Berk meant they would have to explain around certain things even more.

 

“To prove that he’s telling the truth, I guess I’ll just bring you your mode of transport, Jack,” Astrid said loudly, grinning at the puzzled expression on his face, then wilting a little at the glare turned on her by the older woman. She raised her hand and whistled, even sharper than the one Fishlegs gave.

 

Jack narrowed his eyes at her (she was right, though, there were only two dragons, was he supposed to ride on one of them with one of the two Berkians?), and raised an eyebrow at the bright, wide smile on her lips. She looked back at him and Jack was perturbed by the glint of knowing in her sky blue eyes.

 

He was just about to ask what she meant by that when he heard a low rumble echo through the morning air from behind him.

 

A rumble that vibrated with warmth, comfort, and familiarity.

 

Brown eyes widened and his breath caught.

 

Emma gaped and Jack felt the ground shift beneath him when something large and heavy settle behind him. He was still facing his mother and he heard what seemed to be the rustle of large, leathery wings, the beat of gusts of air against the snow, sending it flying in dusts before it settled. He felt warm breath huffing down at his hair, little grunts and low breaths. A shadow fell over him, massive and swallowing him whole.

 

He stared ahead of him, not seeing the wide-eyed expression on his mother’s face nor the look of teary eyed delight on Emma’s.

 

A smile spread on his lips.

 

Slowly, he turned around.

 

Brown eyes met forest green.

 

Jack let out a huff of laughter and felt the corner of his eyes well up.

 

“There you are,” he whispered.

 

The auburn dragon lowered his large head and the lines around his large green eyes softened. He let out a low coo of apology, and Jack could only let out another watery chuckle.

 

The smile on Astrid’s lips softened and she took a few steps back. Fishlegs leaned against Meatlug with a smile, sniffling once, earning a roll of Astrid’s eyes. It was beautiful, okay!

 

Unsure if he was still asleep and dreaming, Jack extended a shaking hand towards the auburn dragon, palm forward. The dragon’s green eyes flickered between the hand and Jack’s face before they closed. The dragon leaned his snout forward and Katherine felt a strike of panic shoot through her and she took a step to race after her son, only held back by Emma’s hands on her arm.

 

Stopping in place, Katherine gasped sharply when Jack’s palm pressed against the dragon’s snout.

 

At the touch of the smooth, hard and warm auburn scales against his bare hand, the smile spread so wide it was starting to hurt, and a couple tears rolled down his cheeks as peals of laughter escaped him.

 

“Where have you _been!?_ ”

 

The dragon gave a small grunt that turned into a deep purr when Jack rushed forward to hug the dragon’s neck, lowering his head so that it rested atop Jack’s shoulder. The wet streaks on his face froze in the cold winter air and made his face feel sticky as he rubbed his cheek against the dragon’s neck, but he didn’t care.

 

He forgot that he had an audience watching him, that his mother was probably looking on in horror at her only son having the gall to embrace a _dragon_ , that he would have even more to explain to his mother (and gods was she going to be furious at him for hiding the dragon’s existence for so long), but he didn’t care. He didn’t see them.

 

The only thing that sunk in to him was how warm and familiar the scales felt against his skin and the rumble of the dragon’s voice beneath the hard leathery skin and the muscle.

 

Gods, he’s missed him.

 

Jack completely forgot that there was anyone else around until he felt a slight jerk from an impact at his side, and glanced over his shoulder to see that Emma was hugging the dragon’s snout, her eyes swollen and red again from tears.

 

“We’ve missed you,” she murmured against the dragon’s scales, smiling at the rumbles chattering behind the dragon’s sharp teeth. “Don’t do that to us again, we thought you didn’t like us anymore or that you’d--”

 

The dragon cut her off with a little nudge, gentle and careful as always, and trilled in apology. She gave the dragon a half-hearted glare before the smile twitched back on her lips. Unwilling to let go of the dragon’s neck, Jack could only smile as the dragon quirked his lips upward in a toothy draconic smile, making Emma giggle.

 

Snorting, she bopped the dragon’s nose, and the dragon gave a soft, high-pitched warble, as if he was pouting. His nose twitched and Emma burst out laughing.

 

Astrid and Fishlegs shared a knowing look, smiles on their lips. The tension in Katherine’s shoulders lessened and the horror slipped off of her face, and she was left only to stare not in terror, but astonishment as her children scolded the dragon for being away for so long, Jack even reaching to take the dragon’s jaw in his hands, hooking his thumbs past his lips, and gave it a little wiggle. She’d almost shouted for him to run away before the dragon bit off his hands, but the dragon didn’t bite down, he only gave a whine of protest.

 

Katherine narrowed in on the sheer delight on her son’s face, his lips spread wide and mouth parted in a toothy grin as he chattered on at the dragon who seemed to understand every single word he said, the happy flush on his cheeks, and the brightness of his brown eyes.

 

Relaxing, she gave a small smile.

 

She would interrogate her son in letter form and her daughter in person later.

 

She didn’t understand what was going on, how her children knew of this dragon in the first place, or how long they’d hidden him from her, but she would let them have this moment of happiness together.

 

Unfortunately, as much as she didn’t want to, Astrid had to interrupt their happy reunion. They couldn’t linger for much longer; in less than an hour, the villagers of Burgess would start waking up, the sun would rise higher, and time would be lost if they lingered for much longer. Patting Stormfly’s side, she walked towards them and cleared her throat. She gave the dragon a pointed stare.

 

The dragon stopped lathering attention all over the two humans and green eyes fell on her, reluctant and displeased. She only gave him a hard stare, and nodded in satisfaction when resignation flickered in the dragon’s eyes. The dragon appeared to give a sigh and gently raised his head away from the two humans. Jack and Emma were just as displeased, and Jack even shot Astrid a glare.

 

She just rolled her eyes.

 

Oh yes, he was going to get along with their prince quite well.

 

Stubborn idiots.

 

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not gonna rip you apart from him, Jack,” She said. Then, she smiled. “It’d be kinda hard to do that seeing as he’s the dragon you’ll be riding on while we fly to Berk.”

 

The glare fell off of his face as her words sank in. Weakly, he gestured towards the auburn dragon, who looked rather amused at how flummoxed Jack was.

 

“Wait, wait-- I’ll be riding him?” He said. She nodded. He gestured again. “Wait a minute, how do you even know that he _exists_?!”

 

“Ah, well,” Fishlegs grinned, sheepish. “It’s kindddd of a long story, but to make it short, let’s just say that he’s a friend of the prince.”

 

Jack blinked and looked back at the dragon, who lowered his eyes to the ground as his claws kneaded into the snow, like he was embarrassed.

 

“..Huh,” Jack said, simply. His eyes narrowed playfully. “Just how many secrets are you hiding from me, big guy?”

 

The dragon huffed and the tip of his tail twitched.

 

“Don’t sass me,” he said, absently marveling at how easy it still was. “You still owe me an explanation for why you disappeared on us for a year.”

 

The dragon’s gaze was unreadable, but he trilled at Jack all the same and Jack didn’t see the flashes of guilt on the two Berkian’s faces.

 

It didn’t escape Emma, and her brow furrowed in confusion and suspicion as she continued to rub at the dragon’s side. But she said nothing.

 

Jack rubbed at the dragon’s neck, mumbling a quiet ‘that’s what I like to hear,’ before turning back to Astrid.

 

“So... how exactly am I gonna be ‘riding’ him, or did we all forget about the spikes on his back?”

 

Astrid resisted the urge to roll her eyes again and jutted her chin towards the dragon. The dragon lowered his body down, stomach pressing onto the snow, and Jack turned to find that there was a saddle latched onto the base of the dragon’s neck, where a large gap between his ridges were. It looked new and polished, like it hadn’t been used before. He gave a small ‘oh’ at the sight and Astrid held back a snort as Jack maneuvered around the dragon so that he could run his hand along the smooth leather.

 

“You can thank our prince for that, he made it himself.”

 

Having caught his attention, Jack’s eyebrows rose and he tilted his head at Astrid in silent questioning, to which she only grinned and turned around to walk back to Stormfly, who’d already lowered herself down enough so that Astrid could hoist herself up and onto the saddle. She ignored the pointed look the dragon shot her and pulled herself up, just as Fishlegs did the same.

 

They were getting ready.

 

To fly.

 

On their dragons.

 

To Berk.

 

He was flying to Berk on his auburn dragon that he hadn’t seen in a year, using a saddle made by the prince himself.

 

Jack’s head was spinning.

 

He shook himself out of his mess of thoughts when the dragon warbled at him in concern, and he smiled to show the dragon that he was perfectly fine. He pat at the dragon’s neck and stood up, took a breath, and then turned to look back at his mother and his sister. Katherine was watching the dragon warily, quiet as she’d been during the entire exchange, and sensing that their reunion was coming to an end, Emma was stroking the dragon’s snout, whispering her request for the dragon to come visit her with Jack. It wouldn’t be the same without the dragon there now that she knew that their dragon was alive and perfectly well. The dragon cooed his acceptance of her request and nudged her forehead gently in farewell, then watched as Emma returned to her mother’s side.

 

The dragon’s forest green eyes followed Jack as he walked towards his mother and Emma, the three meeting for one last final embrace, quiet and tender, before Jack returned to the dragon’s side. The dragon hadn’t moved once since Jack pulled away, and he remained still as Jack hoisted himself onto the saddle, throwing his other leg to the dragon’s other side. Once he was secure, the dragon slowly lifted himself up, slowly when he heard Jack’s little gasps as he nearly slipped off to the side. He wanted until Jack was holding onto the horn of the saddle before slowly walking to meet with the other two riders and their dragons.

 

“Dragon,” his mother suddenly called out.

 

Pausing, the dragon turned to look at her and Katherine held her breath as she met deep forest green eyes, far more intelligent than she expected looking at her in a wary sort of curiosity, obeying her call. Holding the dragon’s gaze, she held her shoulders.

 

“Take care of him, don’t let him fall off.”

 

Jack’s eyes widened. “ _Mom_ ,” he whined, his cheeks in embarrassment.

 

The dragon’s gaze was unblinking and unreadable, but Katherine swore that the lines on the dragon’s face softened. The dragon lowered his head and raised it again, as if nodding.

 

A ghost of a smile formed on her lips, and she nodded back at the dragon.

 

Then, she turned a steely gaze on the two Berkians. Her mouth fell into a hard line and she glared at them.

 

“Because if _anything_ happens to my son, I will throttle your prince myself.”

 

Jack turned bright red, “ **Mom!** ”

 

Astrid hid a grin behind her hand before forcing a more serious expression on her face, and nodded at the woman, while Fishlegs smothered another squeak and nodded frantically.

 

“W-We’ll make sure he gets there perfectly safe!”

 

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Astrid said. “He’ll take good care of him.”

 

She flashed a grin at the now rather meek looking auburn dragon, teasing and knowing, and the dragon narrowed his eyes at her. He huffed and then grunted, giving the older woman another nod of acknowledgement before he walked forward to stand in line with the two other dragons. Jack grasped the horn of the saddle with one hand and groped for the reins with the other, steadying himself.

 

Emma and Katherine took a couple steps back, Emma’s breath hitching as the trio of dragons spread their wings and started to crouch forward.

 

Heart leaping into his throat, Jack copied the two Berkians and leaned forward in his saddle and swallowed. The dragon glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and gave a soft rumble. His heart was still racing, but Jack smiled and quickly rubbed at the dragon’s neck in thanks for the gentle reassurance. Then, the dragon looked back up at the sky.

 

Jack could hear nothing but the pounding of his heart in his ears and the cries of birds in the woods when Astrid gave the signal, whistling for take off.

 

Then, the dragons all pushed upwards and flapped their wings in a hard, single beat.

 

Jack squawked as he was jolted forward (though not as bad as he could’ve if he hadn’t positioned himself) but the momentum of the dragon’s movement, and his eyes clenched shut as the wind slapped into his face. He heard the dragon growl, grunt and warble underneath him, and he could feel the dragon’s muscles pulsing and shifting underneath his legs with each breath and flap of his wings. Jack felt slightly off-balance, but didn’t dare to look, or else he would’ve seen the angle they were at as the dragons accelerated towards the sky.

 

He heard the squawk of the blue, bird-like dragon and the grunt of the other more squat one, then the trill of the auburn dragon underneath him, then, he felt the dragon slow down and come to a slower pace.

 

Brown eyes squinted open and he winced at the much colder wind.

 

When he opened them completely, he gasped.

 

Gray clouds, thin, fat, rolling, all sorts surrounded them in a forest and wisps of white rushed past his face. Beyond the sea of grays and whites was the glare of the sun and an expanse of blue. An endless sky of pure blue.

 

The dragon glanced back at Jack and the corners of his draconic mouth curled upwards at the sight of Jack’s expression of slack-jawed awe and joy.

 

A trill echoed in the sky and then the dragon dipped down into the clouds, making Jack splutter as they were engulfed in a puff of cloud. He rubbed the cloud and the rain it held out of his eyes and blinked them open to glare at the dragon, about to snap a ‘what’re you doing!?’ at him, when he saw the snow covered lands below him.

 

The awe was back on his face as he looked down at the ground and even saw his house in the distance, like a splash of brown paint on a canvas.

 

He could even see the mountains in the distance behind them, and the mountains piercing into the clouds of snow and rain beyond them. The mountains to the north-west they were flying to. He faintly remembered that that was where the auburn dragon would occasionally fly to. So.. that’s where he went to.

 

His smile was warm and soft as he slowly ran his palm along the expanse of the dragon’s neck. The dragon gave a curious trill and glanced at him. Jack narrowed his eyes fondly.

 

“You still owe me an explanation, big guy, but I’ll let it slide for now,” His grin softened and he whispered, the wind rushing on all sides of him. “This is amazing. You’re kinda amazing.”

 

Green eyes warm and tender seemed to practically smile at him as the auburn dragon cooed and then looked towards the horizon once more.

 

He heard an irritated shout from Astrid from above, “Hey! Unless you wanna be seen, get your big scaly butt back up here!”

 

Half-lidded, the dragon grunted and gave a roll of his eyes while Jack snorted in laughter. Giving a small shake of the head, the auburn dragon angled his wings and ascended higher again.

 

As they dove back into the clouds, Jack gave a final glance towards the ground below, smiled with warmth and a hint of sadness, something tugging at the inside of his chest as his house disappeared in the distance. Soon, he could no longer see the ground below him as the auburn dragon fell back in sync with the other two dragons.

 

Jack looked at the horizon ahead of him, and the peaks of mountains just below them poking into the clouds underneath them as they flew into uncharted territory.

 

Home was behind him now, and all there was, was the horizon and Berk in the distance.

 

His nervous stomach flopping, Jack breathed in the cold bite of the winter air above the clouds and the voice belonging to the one that rescued him from drowning that day echoed in his ears. And he wondered.

 

\---

 

As the trio of dragons, the two Berkians and Jack ascend into the sky above, Emma pressed against her mother’s side and watched with a look of awe and a trace of envy as her brother rode their auburn dragon and disappeared into the clouds. She wondered what it was like to fly and if the dragon would let her fly on his back the next time he came back. She wondered how it felt, and already began planning her letter to Jack, thinking of all the questions she would write down.

 

Katherine rubbed at her daughter’s shoulder and watched her son disappear and go where she could not with a tightness in her chest. She knew he would come and visit, but to see him go and begin a life of his own away from home.. it was bittersweet on her tongue.

 

But she still had her daughter who still had several years to go before Katherine would say goodbye to her as well.

 

Mother and daughter stood in silence together as the dragons disappeared into the overcast, early morning sky. Little flakes of snow were beginning to fall and one fell on Emma’s eyelash.

 

“...You’re still going to explain everything about that dragon to me, young lady. Don’t think you’re off the hook.”

 

Emma felt her mother’s hard stare on her and, resisting a flinch, she gave a guilty, sheepish smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate this chapter. i really do. i can't believe it took me nearly two weeks to write it and i wanted it to just end but it was a necessary chapter. hopefully it helped to clear some things up!
> 
> and i told you the lovebirds were gonna meet. kind of.
> 
> (they'll meet for real next chapter, i promise.)
> 
> anyway MORE PLOT THINGS. SO MUCH PLOT. LOOK AT THAT PLOT. and after the next chapter, we're going to have more things in hiccup's perspective to balance some stuff out.
> 
> hope you guys enjoy this one!


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journey is made, a race is held, and an inevitable meeting occurs.

 

It was pure euphoria.

 

For the first half hour or so, Jack was so in awe of the wind against his skin, rushing through his hair and the feeling of the hard scales and leathery skin against his legs as the auburn dragon’s wings beat and hovered beneath his feet, that he could barely say a word. He was afraid that if he spoke a word, the moment would disappear in a flash of smoke and he would find himself staring up at the old wood of his bedroom ceiling.

 

Sucking in the cold, crisp air above the clouds, Jack closed his eyes and pinched himself.

 

The auburn dragon glanced at him in concern when Jack gave a small yelp and rubbed at the side of his neck.

 

Okay, not sleeping, not a dream. All right.

 

Opening his eyes again, he looked down and saw the auburn dragon looking back up at him. He smiled, and the dragon’s lips curled upwards, showing his teeth in an open smile.

 

Way better than a dream.

 

Jack stroked at the dragon’s neck and settled himself on the saddle, trying to adjust his legs so that they were comfortable for the entirety of how long this flight was going to be. He hadn’t even ridden on a horse before, so trying to situate himself properly on the back of a dragon, actually _riding_ one, was a very strange and bizarre experience. 

 

The auburn dragon only gave a chuff of amusement as he heard the human on his back shuffle around and curse under his breath as he got himself adjusted. Giving a light smack to the dragon’s side, earning a petulant whine from said dragon, Jack found a comfortable position and relaxed. He breathed in the air and absorbed the feeling of the scales under his legs and his hands, the sheer weightlessness of flying.

 

If it weren’t for recalling that Astrid and Fishlegs were flying their dragons on both sides of him, he would’ve spread his arms out as if he were a bird and imagined what it would be like to be a bird or a dragon, to fly on his own. He’d always dreamed of flying, though it was often on his own, and he was being carried by the wind or imitating the geese and swans flying off of a lake or a river.

 

But flying on the back of a dragon was even better.

 

It was amazing.

 

Even more amazing was that the dragon he was flying on was his friend, whom he hadn’t seen in nearly a year, and that was something Jack would always treasure.

 

There were still so many questions he had regarding the auburn dragon’s disappearance, lingering feelings of hurt and slight bitterness that he’d gone away for so long, but Jack didn’t want to ruin this precious moment between them. So, he said nothing, and continued to listen to the wind’s song, howling in his ears.

 

The feeling of sheer amazement never quite went away, but it quieted down exponentially when Jack realized that the most he could see were just.. clouds. Endless clouds, the sun, and the blue sky melting into dark blues. It was still beautiful, but after an hour of the same sight, occasionally broken by sharp black and gray peaks of mountain, it all started blurring together. Then, the impatience slowly began to set in alongside nervousness.

 

He cleared his throat and looked to Astrid, who was looking rather at ease on her dragon. “So,” he shouted out over the wind, drawing her attention. “How long is this ride gonna be?”

 

She blinked, smiled and looked over the horizon, observing the clouds ahead of them and narrowing her eyes. “Depending on how kind the weather chooses to be to us, we should be at Berk a few hours before sunset.”

 

Jack hummed thoughtfully and didn’t catch Fishlegs’ look of concern at the auburn dragon, who glanced back at him. His green eyes were nervous, and he looked away. Fishlegs frowned and looked over his shoulder when he was sure Jack wasn’t looking. Behind them was a sea of cloud, nothing but clouds, but after a moment of looking, he saw something sleek, small and dark graze the surface of the clouds.

 

He smiled.

 

_He’s really never far behind, you really are lucky_ , he thought, twisting around to sit more comfortably on Meatlug. He smiled at Jack, calling out, “Are you getting bored already?”

 

Brown eyes widened at him, more than bit offended and he shook his head. “Bored? No way! I’m riding on the back of a _dragon!_ How could I possibly be bored!?”

 

Laughing, Fishlegs held his hands up in surrender. “Just making sure!”

 

Huffing, corners of his mouth twitching upwards, Jack relaxed in his seat on the saddle, all three dragons flying at a fast but even and balanced pace.

 

Jack’s stare flickered between the two dragons, taking in the few minutes of silence to just look at them; he’d been so caught up in the realization that they’d be off to Berk on the back of dragons, and then meeting the auburn dragon again that he’d almost forgotten to get a better look at the other two. Now that things were calm, he took the time to observe them more closely.

 

“What kind of dragons are they?” He blurted. “They don’t look anything like Big Guy, here.”

 

Astrid and Fishlegs both looked at him, blinking, but there were pleased smiles on their faces that made Jack flush a little; it was if they were having a private laugh with each other and he didn’t understand the punchline to the joke. Or it’d flown completely over his head. He didn’t like it, and he wanted to take back his question, tell them to forget about it, but Fishlegs cut him off before he could even start.

 

“Meatlug here is a Gronckle, tough things that they are,” Fishlegs cooed and rubbed at the dragon’s neck. “Aren’t you, girl? You’re my precious rock princess, aren’t youuu?” The dragon warbled and lolled her tongue out happily, wriggling. The other male continued to coo at his dragon, rubbing at her side and Jack watched with raised eyebrows as the wriggling of the portly dragon’s rear and tail quickened. 

 

Astrid gave a roll of her eyes and a small ‘ugh’ at the overt display of affection between dragon and rider.

 

He grinned when he heard a chuffing noise from the dragon and gave a light smack to his shoulder. “Be nice,” he murmured with a laugh. He laughed again when the auburn dragon narrowed his eyes at him and huffed.

 

“Hey, at least I’m not like that with you, am I?” He murmured, lips stretching into a smirk, indicating Fishlegs and his dragon with a vague gesture, who were still in the throes of their daily display of affection. He had to smother his snickers when the dragon made a higher-pitched rumble deep in his throat and green eyes slightly widened.

 

He rubbed at the dragon’s shoulder to appease him, and at the dignified sniff (along with a secret upward curl of his lips), he grinned.

 

But for all of his teasing, when Fishlegs kept speaking, Jack listened with rapt fascination as the other male told him all sorts of different facts about Meatlug’s species, the Gronckle. Fishlegs explained that despite the small wings in relation to the weight of the Gronckle, the wings were similar to a hummingbird’s and beat fast enough for the Gronckle to maintain flight with relative ease. Fishlegs beamed with pride when he told Jack that they could fly backwards, sideways, and hover in the air when they wanted to, something that not all dragons could do.

 

Jack found it hard to believe, but given how the Gronckle was flying at the same pace with the two dragons with much larger wingspans, he supposed he had to. It was quite impressive, actually.

 

The fact that Gronckles could eat rocks and then spit them out as molten lava or even steel and iron was even more impressive. Jack was kind of amazed, and he teasingly asked the auburn dragon if he was anywhere near as cool as Meatlug, who preened at the praise. He earned a dry look from the auburn dragon and the lightest of jostles for his troubles.

 

It was only a slight jostle, not nearly enough to scare Jack into thinking that he was about to fall off, so he just laughed.

 

He heard a squawk from the other side of him and he looked to find the other dragon bobbing her head, blinking her yellow eyes at him.

 

Laughing, he smiled at Astrid. “All right, so what about that one?”

 

Astrid beamed with pride, a slight smirk curling on her lips, and gently stroked at the spikes on the dragon’s neck. “This is Stormfly, and she’s a Deadly Nadder.”

 

His eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “What makes her so ‘deadly’?”

 

Her grin stretched wider, “Go on and show him, girl.”

 

Stormfly gave a happy warble and lifted the end of her tail, and Jack jumped, giving a ‘whoa!’ when he saw the spikes that’d previously been laying flat on the ridge of her tail stick out. An off-white and yellow color, they glinted in the sun and looked very sharp. Jack was quite relieved that he was technically on the Berkian’s side; he would not want to be on the other end of those spikes if they met as enemies.

 

She made to say more, but Fishlegs cut in before she could, practically bouncing in his saddle as he told Jack everything there was to know about Deadly Nadders; that their tail spikes had venom in them, that they breathed the hottest fire known to mankind (though Fishlegs interjected that that claim might be disputable once they do more research on new species of dragons, one further north), that their fire could melt any metal down or turn a man to ash.

 

Astrid cut in to say that Stormfly was also one of the fastest dragons on Berk (which made Jack’s head spin a little because there were even _more_ dragons in Berk?), enough to compete with the quickest dragon and give him a run for his money in a real race.

 

The young woman grinned wide as Stormfly preened in approval at all the compliments (Astrid also quipped that Deadly Nadders were quite conscious of their image and had a tendency to clean themselves as birds would), and the auburn dragon rolled his eyes and gave a soft, rumbling growl. 

 

Jack raised his eyebrow at the auburn dragon and Astrid snorted with laughter. Fishlegs hid a smile behind his hand.

 

“Just how many different kinds of dragons are there, exactly?” Jack asked, his mind racing with all sorts of new questions, so many that he almost forgot why he was flying on the back of a dragon in the first place.

 

“Oh, dozens that we’ve discovered and researched so far!” Fishlegs beamed. “But there’s probably hundreds, if not thousands of species that we haven’t seen yet. If you like, I can let you borrow my Book of Dragons when we land, it’ll tell you everything you need to know about dragons if you want--”  


“Oh, Odin’s beard, now you’ve got him going,” Astrid rolled her eyes half-heartedly and gave a wry grin that was more than a little fond. “Fishlegs is our second-most knowledgeable expert on dragons, he’s got the whole book memorized front to back.”

 

“There’s a _book--_?”

 

“Which is why I’m more than willing to let him borrow it!” Fishlegs sniffed, puffing his chest out and crossing his arms. “Might as well help him get acquainted with life there, right? He ought to know all of the species of dragons that live at home!”

 

There was a smile on Fishlegs’s face as he said it, but the one on Jack’s fell slightly as he suddenly remembered why he was flying to Berk in the first place. His hand reached out for the staff strapped to the dragon’s saddle and ran his fingers across it, drawing the auburn dragon’s attention. The dragon gave a soft warble of concern and Jack, sobering, gave him a wan smile and pat at his side.

 

_I’m okay, I’ll be all right._

 

The auburn dragon stared at him dubiously, giving another low rumble of concern before looking ahead of him once more.

 

“Well, I guess I’ll have to trust you with anything related to dragons, Fishlegs,” he said airily, betraying none of his deeper thoughts and concerns. He grinned. “So, I gotta ask then, what species is Big Guy, here?”

 

The auburn dragon gave an incredulous sounding rumble deep in his throat, and Fishlegs blinked, taken aback. He glanced up at Astrid and they shared a look that was unreadable, one that Jack couldn’t break past, as if there was something they were actively trying to keep from him. Feeling a spark of annoyance, he waited for an answer.

 

Fishlegs rubbed the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly, “Aha, well... you know, I’m not completely sure what species he is.” At the frown on Jack’s lips and the furrow of his brow, he was quick to continue. “A lot of dragon species are pretty sociable animals, so they kinda gather together in pack-like groups, but this guy here...”

 

He smiled and there was something sad in it, something that Jack didn’t understand.

 

“He was on his own when we found him. I’m not sure if there are any other members of his species aside from him, at least around here. I guess that makes him a mystery class dragon. He’s the only one of his kind that we know of.”

 

Biting down hard on her bottom lip and locking her jaw, Astrid glared down at her arm guard and fiddled with it. She didn’t look at either Fishlegs or the auburn dragon.

 

The auburn dragon didn’t look at any of them, and the expression on his draconic face was unreadable.

 

Frowning, Jack looked down at the dragon, at the slender, thin shape of his snout, his legs, his body and the wide span of his wings, the brown-red scales, and wondered.

 

_You’re... alone?_ He thought.

 

His chest clenched tight and he leaned forward to rub both of his palms against the dragon’s neck. The dragon blinked and glanced back at him, but aside from a small, curious rumble, the dragon didn’t make any other noise. Jack’s brows knit and he caressed the auburn scales, Fishlegs’s words echoing in his mind.

 

He was found by himself, and as far as Fishlegs and Astrid were aware, there were no other dragons like him. He was one of a kind, an anomaly. And if they’d found him alone, that meant that as far as anyone knew, the auburn dragon had no family.

 

Jack’d hoped that when the dragon left them when the sun set, delving back into the forest or flying beyond the mountains, he had a family waiting for him. Maybe he had a mate, but with the sad look on Fishlegs’s face and the unreadable glint in the deep forest green eyes, Jack wondered if that was the case at all.

 

How lonely it must be, to not have a family or even a mate to come home to.

 

Biting his bottom lip, he dragged his fingers in a stroke along the scales lining the auburn dragon’s spine.

 

Well, as long as Jack could help it, he wouldn’t let the auburn dragon be alone anymore.

 

He couldn’t help but feel like there was something that both Fishlegs and Astrid weren’t telling him, something important that he couldn’t bear witness to and it kind of irritated him, but with this new knowledge and the sad pull of the other male’s face.. well, Jack had a feeling that he shouldn’t pry any further.

 

Instead, he grinned and gave one of the auburn dragon’s ridges a little tap. “You hear that? He just called you a part of the mystery class, who knew you were so cool, Big Guy?”

 

The auburn dragon glanced behind him and the corner of his draconic mouth curled upward. Jack smiled back at him.

 

Jack could direct his questions to the prince himself, seeing as this particular dragon was said to be a friend of his, whatever that meant. That knowledge alone just made even more questions spring forward. Gods, he had to have more than a hundred questions by this point, especially now that he knew that dragons were apparently everywhere on Berk.

 

Something that Fishlegs said earlier niggled at the back of his mind, and Jack turned to look at him. “So, if you’re the second-most expert on all there is to know about dragons on Berk, who’s the number one expert?”

 

He was only a little creeped out at the grins Fishlegs and Astrid shared with each other. Fishlegs was practically beaming with the brightness of the sun as he answered, “That would be Håkon.”

 

The curious grin on Jack’s lips fell. “The... The prince is? _He’s_ the expert on dragons at Berk?”

 

Fishlegs closed his eyes and nodded sagely, and Astrid interjected, leaning towards him on her saddle with a grin curled on her mouth.

 

“Oh, yeah. Fishlegs knows the Book of Dragons by heart and I’m certainly no one to sniff at when it comes to dragons, especially Nadders,” Stormfly cooed when her rider stroked at the side of her neck, “But he’s got a _way_ with them that I don’t think anyone else does.”

 

Jack’s brows knit together. “What do you mean by a ‘way’ with them?”

 

Gesturing with his hands, Fishlegs piped, “There’s this thing he does with--with his _hand_ and-- oh, Frigga, I can’t really explain it.”

 

“You’ll kinda have to see it for yourself.” Astrid smiled.

 

It did little to answer any of Jack’s questions and only made to further add to them. Jack was more confused than ever about his princely fiance that he was to meet within only a few hours. Oh, there goes his stomach again, flopping everywhere and practically leaping into his throat. Yes, that was what he needed when he’s thousands of feet in the air, above the clouds and couldn’t see the ground anymore.

 

“...I guess I will,” He said, lips pulled into a thoughtful frown.

 

The auburn dragon, who hadn’t made a single noise as they were talking about the prince nor looked at them, glanced at the human riding on his back and gave a little rumble of concern. Jack gave him a gentle smile and shook his head, silently telling him that he was fine, and looked back at Fishlegs when he continued to speak, much more carefully this time to assure him that there would be plenty of opportunities to see how Håkon was an expert with the dragons, that he would get to see as many dragons as he wanted on Berk.

 

Jack didn’t see how the auburn dragon’s green eyes lingered on him, flickering with uncertainty, nor the nervous twitch of the dragon’s ears.

 

For all of Jack’s rather complicated feelings for the prince himself, he couldn’t help a slight twinge of eagerness at the thought of seeing all of these dragons that Astrid and Fishlegs spoke of. He didn’t know what Håkon would be like as a person, and he could only gather so much from what the two Berkians were telling him.

 

But what he did know was that the auburn dragon was a friend of the prince, so they told him. The auburn dragon must know a lot about him, and the prince must know a lot about the auburn dragon. Maybe the prince could tell him all there was to know about the auburn dragon. The species he was, his name, where he came from, and where he’d been for the past year.

 

Jack wondered if the dragons had anything to do with what Astrid told him just days before.

 

She’d said that the prince had done a lot of good for Berk, how much they had to thank him for and how remarkable and _good_ he was.

 

Curiosity bloomed in him and so many more questions threaded together with his thoughts.

 

He wished that the auburn dragon could speak to him in a language he could understand. The auburn dragon knew the prince and he knew what Berk was like; if only he could tell him what Berk’s prince was like. He wanted to ask the dragon, “Is he really a good person? Does he treat you well? What does he look like? Does he like playing in the snow?”  


But of course, the auburn dragon could answer none of these things.

 

Jack would have to wait and learn to have patience, something he already struggled with.

 

“Um, remind me again, just how long is this flight going to be?” He asked warily, glancing at a rather amused looking Astrid.

 

She smiled. “We’re making good on time, so we should be at Berk within a few hours before sunset. Should give you and the dragons enough time to rest before you meet him.”

 

The auburn dragon’s eyes closed in relief and Jack started. “Whoa, wait, wait. I’m meeting him _tonight?_ ”

 

The two Berkians stared at him. “Well, yeah,” she said. The corner of her mouth quirked further upwards. “When did you think you were gonna meet him?”

 

“Uh, well,” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve gotten a chance to meet him so far, so I wasn’t sure when exactly I would. He didn’t even propose to me in person..”

 

He muttered the last bit to himself for no one except the wind and the dragon to hear, his frown heavy on his lips. The dragon gave a low rumble to comfort him, but the green eyes didn’t look at him. They were wrinkled, unsure and nervous, maybe even guilty.

 

Fishlegs blinked and comprehension filled him. “Did you think that you were gonna meet him for the first time at the wedding?”

 

_Why did he have to say wedding._

 

Fishlegs saying the word just made it all the more real, and he said it so casually, like it was completely mundane. He made it sound official and like something normal and oh gods he was actually getting _married_. 

 

Jack’s nose turned a bright shade of pink, spreading to his cheeks and he hid a high-pitched groan of embarrassment at the word with a cough, averting his gaze but feeling the pair of blue eyes on him. The auburn dragon seemed to share his mortification, empathizing with him and making him feel a little better, if the high-pitched groan he made was any indication.

 

“Uh,” he said intelligently.

 

At least Fishlegs didn’t laugh at him. He just smiled kindly and shook his head, “Trust me, he wouldn’t do that. You’ll get to meet him later tonight.”

 

Fishlegs chose not to tell him that when their king asked his son if they should start making wedding preparations in response to Jack’s acceptance, should he say yes, their very flustered prince spluttered and told his father that no, they weren’t going to have the wedding that soon. That they needed to let Jack get used to living at Berk, become acquainted with their customs and come to know him as a person before they could even think about getting the preparations done. And that was only if Jack were to say yes.

 

Oh, no, their prince was not going to rush Jack into marrying him the moment he landed in Berk.

 

...He also chose not to tell Jack about how they were going to welcome him to Berk as the soon-to-be consort of their prince and heir that night.

 

Fishlegs didn’t want to spoil the surprise, neither did Astrid.

 

Both smiled when Jack appeared to relax, hiding their amusement at the flush on his face and the flustered furrow of his brows, and continued to fly on into the late morning and early afternoon.

 

Jack was left to ponder on the wind, the clouds, the unseen ground thousands of feet below, the auburn dragon, and the prince that he was soon to meet.

 

Toxic green eyes peered at the group flying meters ahead through the wisps of cloud, blinked, and then dipped back into the white swell below. Forest green glanced back once, spotting the flash of black in the sea of white, and then looked ahead.

 

\---

 

Astrid and Fishlegs both had some amazing timing, because just as Jack’s stomach was starting to growl, Astrid led their dragons down towards the ground again and for the first time in several hours, he got to see the sight below the clouds. They landed in a thicket and a thick fog lingered between the bare branches and the pine trees. While the dragons spent the half hour resting, letting their wings fold back and relax while they stretched their legs and went hunting for fish in a frozen lake, Jack and the two Berkians made a rest stop to have a small lunch.

 

Fishlegs gave the staff resting in Jack’s lap a curious look while he ate a strip of salted meat, and Jack gave a thoughtful stare at the small box that was tucked safely away in his bag, wondering what it could be, and why his mother wanted him to wait until he’d arrived at Berk before opening it. Whatever it was, it had to be something quite important for her to not let him open it before he left.

 

His mother had packed him some bread for the journey, and he nibbled on a corner of the loaf as he tried to calm his nervous stomach. He chewed the bread till it was paste, unable to swallow until it was too unbearable to keep it in his mouth any longer. 

 

The smell of the fresh fish that Stormfly dropped at their feet in a small pile only made his stomach churn further. The sudden burst of fire from the Deadly Nadder made him jump, bumping into the auburn dragon’s side and he blinked rapidly at how a rather calm Astrid held out a fish to her dragon’s open maw. He politely declined a smoked fish on a stick when it was offered to him, forcing a small smile. The strong odor combined with a twisting stomach made it less than appealing.

 

Fishlegs and Astrid looked at him in faint concern, making sure to ask a couple more times if he was sure that he wasn’t hungry and he shook his head, smile widening. It fell as soon as they started eating and his gaze lowered, rolling the bits of crumbs between his fingers.

 

His shoulders jolted when he felt the slightest of bumps against his back, and he looked over his shoulder to meet forest green eyes. The auburn dragon lifted his head and he gave a soft rumble in his throat, tilting his head to the side. The corners of his eyes were crinkled.

 

A somber but sincere smile on his lips, Jack lifted his free hand to rub his palm along the dragon’s jaw. He mouthed ‘I’m fine,’ but he knew that the dragon didn’t believe him. The dragon could probably smell and sense the nervousness coming off of him in waves and the erratic beating of his heart, making his chest feel tight and stomach taut. Dragons were rather similar to horses and dogs like that.

 

Though he was still racked with a mild anxiety at the inevitability of meeting the prince, their arrival at Berk that was only a few more hours to come, so Fishlegs told him, and still in disbelief that there were even more dragons to see, the feeling of the dragon’s warm scales on his skin soothed his fears and anxieties. The scales were familiar, smooth, if a little more worn than Jack last remembered, but still just as leathery and comforting to the touch as they were just a year ago. Having the dragon there made it easier, made it feel like Jack wasn’t completely on his own as a newcomer to Berk. It made the whole notion of seeing his new home and his impending marriage seem less intimidating and scary.

 

Jack was grateful to the man in the moon and all the gods that the auburn dragon was here, that after a whole year of thinking that he’d never see him again, the dragon was here and nudging his back with his snout.

 

Closing his eyes and hearing the sounds of the two Berkians stand up from their seats to hop onto the saddles of their dragons, Jack pressed his forehead against the side of the dragon’s snout in a silent show of gratitude, thanking him for being there.

 

The dragon purred deep in his chest, but his green eyes were unreadable in their emotion, almost hesitant. He closed them before the human could see the uncertainty flickering in them.

 

Giving a final pat to his side, Jack hoisted himself up onto the saddle on the dragon’s back when he lowered his body enough for Jack to clamber on. He remembered to lean forward during take off, and his chest felt lighter as the wind rippled through his hair as they turned skyward.

 

A pair of toxic green eyes stared up at them as the three dragons and their riders disappeared into the clouds. Black wings spread wide and unfolded, then took to the sky, close enough to see the three dragons ahead, but not close enough to be seen.

 

Aside from the occasional question of how far ahead they were and a comment of how much longer it would take to reach Berk, the three riders did not speak much, and the auburn dragon’s balance was so relaxed and easy despite the speed they were flying that Jack nearly found himself drifting off to sleep several times. The lack of sleep he’d gotten the night before was getting to him and as much as he enjoyed the cold on a regular day, he could barely feel his ears or the tip of his nose anymore, and Jack was getting increasingly eager for their eventual landing. Sitting by a fire, a candle, or just being somewhere inside sounded heavenly.

 

While Jack was content to remain quiet, Astrid and Fishlegs occasionally spoke to each other over the sound of the wind, both in the common tongue and in their own language, much to his mild aggravation at the latter, though not generally for very long. Only a couple sentences at most, generally to ask how the weather was faring for their time, their dragons’ energy, and wether or not they would need to let their dragons have another break. They sometimes asked him how he was feeling, if he was getting tired or hungry, but Jack would smile, shake his head, and say no, telling them that he was perfectly fine, that he wasn’t hungry, that if he was tired he could just take a short nap on top of the auburn dragon. He trusted the dragon enough to not let him fall off the saddle, and that’s what he eventually wound up doing. 

 

He pulled his scarf tighter around his face, fastening it just below his nose, and relaxed in his seat on the saddle, closing his eyes. It was a light nap, a slight drift into unconsciousness, not enough to make him go completely slack in his seat, but enough to allow his sleep-deprived body some relief. The auburn dragon glanced at him and made sure not to make any sudden movements as to not disturb the sleeping rider on his back. Jack didn’t dream of anything. The wind, muffled by the hood over his head that protected his ears, hummed against the fabric as they continued to fly into a sky that was a bright, pale blue, a slow swell of oranges, red and purple gradually staining the gray clouds below.

 

When he woke up from his nap, he rubbed his eyes and asked Astrid how much longer it would be until they landed. She smiled and said, “Just a little further, and then we can land, and you can get some rest.”

 

He was going to need it, and so were their dragons. Especially their dragons. When night fell, they would be needed once more, for something that would be far less stressful, and much more fun.

 

For Astrid, Fishlegs and their respective dragons, anyway.

 

Brown eyes widened and Jack felt his breathe seize in his chest.

 

He didn’t have much time left to prepare himself before landing, and who knew how much longer it would take until he met this mysterious prince, his fiance.

 

Oh gods, it was a good thing he’d only had some water and a couple bites of bread hours ago, or else he’d be ready to empty his stomach all over the clouds and an unfortunate auburn dragon. Yes, not eating all that much earlier was a good decision. His stomach was twisting around in his ribcage, bumping against his bones as his nerves were effectively wracked. 

 

“And, um,” He started, then cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the five other witnesses to this conversation. “When will I, uh.. be meeting Håkon..?”

 

The auburn dragon looked back towards the horizon and Jack, distracted by the sound of blood rushing to his face as the words came tumbling out, didn’t feel the dragon’s back stiffening and going rigid beneath his legs. The two other dragons were chuffing and peering at the third, who refused to look at either of them, and Fishlegs and Astrid glanced at each other. Smothering a laugh, Astrid stroked at Stormfly’s neck and Fishlegs gave Jack a smile.

 

“I think the plan is that you get to meet him a bit later on in the evening,” He said. “He wanted you to get some rest first before everything else, said he didn’t want you to be too overwhelmed by the time you met.”

 

Which could be a little difficult considering what their dragons would be resting for once they arrived and landed back in Berk, though Jack didn’t know that just yet. That was a surprise.

 

“Oh,” Jack said. His brows knit together. “That’s... awfully considerate of him.”

 

Fishlegs snorted a laugh and cut it off when it felt a pair of forest green eyes boring into him with a half-lidded glare, covering it with a clearing of the throat. “Aha, yeah, he is, but, well, he’s also had some things to do today, so he won’t be meeting you right away until he’s finished with his errands.”

 

“Is that why he couldn’t come himself?” He asked sharply.

 

Jack didn’t intentionally put the edge in his voice, it simply came out naturally, unbidden and instinctually. Fishleg’s smile dropped and a heavy frown set on Astrid’s lips. She glanced at the auburn dragon, finding the dragon’s eyes peering into the clouds. He didn’t look at the rider on his back.

 

“He has his reasons,” She said, her tone reminding Jack much of the steel and iron her axe’s blade was made of. “When you meet him, you can ask him yourself. He’ll be more than willing to explain.”

 

Even if there were some things he still couldn’t explain to Jack, much as he may want to.

 

Jack’s mouth clenched shut with an audible click, and he looked away from her just as grateful green eyes flickered towards her. She gave a faint smile to the auburn dragon, then turned her attention back onto Jack. Her face softened a little at the wary look he gave her.

 

“He wanted to come, he really did. But he’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

 

Fishlegs nodded in agreement and though the expression on Jack’s face was still wary, a touch unconvinced, he gave a slow nod of acceptance. His smile a ghost of itself, he looked away and stared into the clouds below. He held back a sigh and stroked at the auburn dragon’s scales, feeling its familiar texture and felt his muscles relax in an instant.

 

The dragon glanced at the rider on his back, watching his expression. Jack’s smile was more genuine when he aimed it at the auburn dragon.

 

Silence fell between the three riders and Jack was left to only imagine what Håkon would be like in the time they had left before they landed, his stomach flopping back and forth constantly and making the back of his mouth feel hot, the corners of his jawline prickling. It was only the rumble of the dragon and his smooth, warm scales that kept Jack from getting sick all over him. The dragon’s presence was a comfort, and Jack hoped that the dragon could be with him when he finally met the prince, whenever that would be.

 

Maybe meeting the prince wouldn’t be so nerve-inducing if the auburn dragon was by his side.

 

\---

 

When they began making their descent into the clouds, Jack had drifted off into thought as he wondered what his mother and sister were doing at that very moment, what his father would’ve thought about the possibly reckless and stupid decision that he’d just made, trying to imagine what the prince would look and be like. He was pulled out of his thoughts with a sharp jerk when the auburn dragon suddenly angled downwards, the wind almost knocked out of him at the sudden movement. He groped and grappled for the reins and the horn of the saddle, and he shut his eyes tight when they dove through the thick gray clouds. The sky was slowly turning an orange red, signaling the ending of the day and the oncoming darkness of night, the stars starting to glitter high in the sky.

 

“Brace yourself! We’re about to land!”

 

“Could’ve said that earlier, Astrid,” He muttered to himself, scowling. He heard a chuff underneath the howl of the wind and would’ve rolled his eyes if he could. Instead, he gave a hard pat to the dragon’s side and Jack heard the rumbles and warbles of the dragons on both sides of him.

 

The held rain and snow of the clouds dried and froze on his face. Wiping the newly formed frost off, Jack struggled to open his eyes once the dragon’s angle smoothed out. He squinted his brown eyes open, the sight before him slowly clearing, and then they widened.

 

 All around them were high and sharp gray-brown mountains, the slopes covered with a thick coat of snow, and the peaks piercing high into the clouds. The slopes were steep, and the sunlight reflected off of the snow, creating a deceptive painting of elegance and smooth edges, but as they began to fly lower, twisting between the sides of the mountains and through deep valleys and gorges, Jack saw that the cliffs and the uncovered slopes of the mountains were covered with sharp rocks coated in black ice. 

 

The gorges and valleys were too deep and too wide for any regular person to reach without great difficulty.

 

Jack didn’t see how anyone could possibly live this deep in the mountains, and he definitely didn’t see how any of the Berkians could’ve possibly traveled to this land on foot, at least not without losing a good number of their people on the journey there. It was both amazing, humbling and a bit frightening to think about. What could’ve possibly driven them to come this far and this deep into the mountains? Why did they _stay_?

 

The further they flew, the smaller and less sharp the mountains became. A thick forest stretched along the sides of the mountains, thick with pines, oaks, aspens and sycamores, nearly all bare and covered in snow. Jack saw light glittering on the surface of something in the distance and his breath caught in his throat.

 

The reflected light shimmered and danced on an ever moving surface and Jack fancied himself for a short moment that maybe that was the ocean in the distance. But he couldn’t tell for certain; the clouds were too dark and thick with gray and snow while an impenetrable fog lingered deep in the valleys.

 

The land was harsh, rugged, tough, but in its own way, beautiful in how wild it was.

 

Jack found it strangely fitting for this to be the newfound home of an equally tough and harsh people.

 

But Jack couldn’t see any houses, any sign of a village in the valley, and he was left to wonder where they built their homes in the first place, if they even _could_ in such an inhospitable land. They just kept flying onward, the auburn dragon seeming to lead the way, and Jack’s brows knit together as the dragon’s speed lessened and he lowered. The two dragons and their riders behind him followed suit, and the auburn dragon lowered enough for Jack to brush his fingertips against the fog, the white wisps dispersing at his touch. It made him smile, but then the auburn dragon dipped further down and they were swallowed by the fog, obscuring all sight from him.

 

Spluttering, Jack swiped the fog away from his face and his eyes fluttered open. The auburn dragon slowed his speed further and Jack’s eyes widened at the sight before him, his breath utterly caught.

 

He gaped, and Astrid and Fishlegs shot each other smug looks.

 

The auburn dragon’s green eyes glanced at Jack from the side.

 

Below them, built on the ledges, cliffs, and deep in the valley and its hills between the mountains, was a thriving village.

 

The snow was thick and heavy as it stuck to the ground, but the wood was furnished and dark, while the bright colors painted on the roofs of the houses stood bright and stark against the cold coat of white. Jack saw blurs of brown, dark green, black, and earthy colors moving slowly against the ground, and as they soared lower into the valley, Jack realized that they were the colors of the Berkian’s clothes. And their eyes were turning to look up at them.

 

Jack felt their eyes on his face along with dozens of other pairs, glowing yellow against the snow.

 

There were dragons _everywhere_.

 

Deadly Nadders perched on top of houses, some trotted along the ground as they followed their human companions, and some took to the sky.

 

 A group of Gronckles were huddled together and napping around one of the lit torches, and Jack noticed a flock of smaller dragons following an old woman with a staff that rattled in the wind, her hair gray and thick in their braids. 

 

Vicious, lizard-like dragons with curved, sharp horns munched on fish piled together, and Jack even saw a two headed dragon fly off into the distance. Their yellow eyes turned to look up at the flying trio and Jack heard a chorus of warbles and rumbles sent their way, as if in greeting. The Berkians were looking up at them, causing Jack to lower himself down on the saddle, the back of his neck feeling hot and his heart leaping into his throat.

 

He felt too many eyes on him and it was nothing like the children who would follow him around the village while he assisted his mother and his sister, begging him to tell them a story. Bless the wind for drowning out the surprised mutters and mumbles of interest below; Jack didn’t want to know what was being said about him, but he still wondered if they knew who he was and why he was there.

 

They _had_ to know. They had to know why he was there, why he was riding on the back of the prince’s draconic friend.

 

Jack wasn’t sure if he liked the thought of so much attention on him for that reason.

 

Sensing his discomfort, the auburn dragon gave a warm rumble and glanced at him, then changed direction towards the fog, obscuring them from the bystanders below. Relaxing, Jack smiled and mumbled a ‘thanks.’ The auburn dragon crooned, and both ignored Astrid’s shout of, ‘Hey! Where are you two going!?’ and Fishlegs’ ‘Slow down!’

 

Grinning faintly, Jack settled back on the saddle and heard the sound of Meatlug’s little wings thrumming and the beat of Stormfly’s larger, stronger wings close behind them. They drifted through the fog and then Jack had to lean forward when the auburn dragon began to decline, angling himself towards the ground. Jack’s hold on the horn and reins tightened, and he heard the dragon’s tail whip behind him just as he saw them descending towards a tall, dark brown and wooded structure that sat on a large hill. 

 

Not too far away, Jack saw the fog hovering over the cold waters of the ocean, the surface gray and dark green, ice coiled on the shore and the sands, stretching winter’s hands towards the churn of the sea.

 

He braced himself for the landing and felt the beat of the auburn dragon’s wings as he slowed to a stop. The auburn dragon extended his long legs and extracted his claws, his front claws landing first, then the back legs. When they first landed during their earlier lunch break, Jack nearly fell off the saddle and Fishlegs sheepishly apologized for forgetting to warn him about landing and how to prepare for the impact.

 

But this time, the auburn dragon’s landing was far more gentle, and Jack only bounced a little in the saddle, which earned the dragon a scratch at the wing joint. He grinned at the dragon’s purr of content.

 

“Thanks for not nearly throwing me off the saddle this time,” He said wryly.

 

The dragon blinked and widened his green eyes as he gave a warble of apology.

 

Snorting, Jack shook his head and smiled. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, it’s okay.” He scratched at the wing joint again and his smile softened at the dragon’s purring. “That... that was amazing,” he whispered.

 

The auburn dragon quieted and lifted his head, turning it to look at him properly. Jack twisted around on the saddle and leaned forward enough so that he could reach over and rub the underside of the dragon’s chin, his thumb tracing over the scar.

 

Jack’s smile was warm and underneath the sound of Meatlug and Stormfly landing behind him, he murmured, “Thank you for showing me what it feels like to fly, big guy.”

 

The auburn dragon gazed at him and then parted his maw, showing his teeth as he gave a soft trill.

 

_You’re welcome_.

 

Jack didn’t have to speak Dragonese to understand.

 

He grinned and rubbed at the top of the auburn dragon’s nose, making him give a little warble. “Think you could take me flying again sometime?”

 

The auburn dragon moved his large snout so that he could huff a breath in his face, to which Jack lightly batted him away, and then crooned at him before giving a little sniff. Jack took that to mean, ‘ _of course_.’

 

His grin only widened.

 

He heard the clink of metal as both Astrid and Fishlegs clambered off of their dragons, and with the aid of the auburn dragon’s wing leading him down, he joined them on the ground. His knees felt wobbly from lack of use, but he kept a hand on the dragon’s side; it kept him standing upright as he gathered his wits about him as well as giving him something real to hang onto. A sign to show him that this was all real and that he wasn’t dreaming.

 

Fingers curled against the dragon’s scales as Jack swallowed and looked up at the tall wooden structure in front of him. It wasn’t the prettiest castle he’d ever seen, nor even that large, but the wood was furnished, polished, gleaming in the cool winter air and sharp icicles hung from the beams, windows, shutters, and the rails of the roof. He saw shapes engraved in the wood; knots, coils, old runes barring evil spirits from entering the doorway, and mighty beasts. There were carvings of wolves, serpents, falcons, vicious birds, and winged warrior women guarding the doorway. 

 

Right above the doorframe was a painted engraving with a horned skull, bright red, and a dragon, carved into the wood, stared down at him.

 

He swallowed.

 

“Charming.”

 

He heard the dragon snort next to him and the corners of his mouth quirked upwards. He looked at the dragon and ran his palm down the length of the dragon’s neck, finding nothing more to say as he heard Fishlegs and Astrid’s footsteps coming closer to him. Astrid came to stand next to him while Stormfly remained behind, pecking underneath her wing and cleaning herself (she had to take care of her appearance, after all) and Meatlug plopped down to rest after Fishlegs fed her some rocks.

 

“Well!” She said brightly. “Here we are. Fishlegs, can you knock and see if he’s here?”

 

Jack felt the dragon stiffen underneath his touch and he turned wide eyes onto Astrid. “Wait a second, I thought you said I wouldn’t be meeting him until later--”

 

Laughing, she shook her head. “I don’t mean Håkon, I mean the king.”

 

She might as well have punched him in the gut with that little nugget of information.

 

“The _king--?_ ” He wheezed, just as Fishlegs knocked on the large doors to the castle.

 

He hadn’t even met the prince himself yet and here he was, meeting the prince’s father. By the moon, it was a miracle he still retained consciousness, though he was dangerously close to passing out.

 

After rapping his knuckles against the door and hearing nothing from inside, Fishlegs pressed his ear against the door and frowned. Stroking his chin, he hummed thoughtfully before giving a shrug. “I guess he’s not here.”

 

Jack sighed in relief and the dragon relaxed underneath his palm, breathing slowly. Blinking, Jack raised an eyebrow at the dragon. He just blinked back at him.

 

Astrid frowned. “Huh, he must be busy back in the village... I guess he won’t mind if we go on inside. Do you think Valka’s there?”

 

Valka?

 

Fishlegs shook his head. “I don’t think so, she would’ve answered the door if she was here. She must be out, too.”

 

Astrid hummed in thought, thinking, and then shrugged. “I don’t think she’ll mind either.”

 

“Um, excuse me,” Jack interrupted, his growing anxiety and annoyance barely restrained. “Someone mind telling me who this Valka is?”

 

Fishlegs opened his mouth to explain when Jack felt the dragon stiffen underneath his touch once more, the muscles going rigid as the auburn dragon lifted his head. His green eyes, slit pupils sharp and focused, looked up at the roof of the tall building, and Jack followed the dragon’s gaze, brows knit together.

 

What he saw nearly made him stumble back a few steps.

 

Fishlegs squeaked and the only indication of mild shock Astrid gave was a rapid blink of her eyes and a slight stiffening of her shoulders. Then, she smiled.

 

Bright yellow eyes blinked down at Jack and a dragon, the claws on the corner of its wings grappling the wall of the building, turned and cocked its head at him, giving a curious warble. Its scales were orange and brown and it had a flat, rounded head, with large fins against the sides of its neck and wide ridges forming from its brows. It was huge, nearly twice as big as the auburn dragon, if not larger.

 

What startled Jack the most wasn’t just the dragon looking at him with eyes so sharp and intelligent that they reminded Jack of an owl, but the older woman hanging onto its back. She wasn’t even holding onto any saddle.

 

She smiled.

 

“I suppose I’ll just have to introduce myself properly, then.”

 

Jack could only gape as the owl-like dragon unfolded its wings as the woman hooked the staff she was holding around the wing claw, and then stretched out another wing for her to gently slide down to the ground. Every movement she made was practiced, smooth, and purposeful. He wouldn’t exactly call them graceful, but there was a power and confidence she conveyed as she lowered herself down. She reminded Jack of those large, predatory cats that sometimes wandered the mountains and forests and those from far off lands he would see in picture books. It was a little intimidating, and Jack had the impression that this was someone very important who should not be underestimated.

 

Once she stepped foot onto the ground, the large dragon followed suit and Jack felt very, very small as its shadow completely engulfed him. He swallowed hard and he grasped the auburn dragon’s side, making the auburn dragon trill softly, as if reassuring him that he was perfectly safe.

 

Jack knew that dragons weren’t as vicious as people always said, but the sheer size of the dragon was unnerving in how it dwarfed him. This was one dragon he definitely wouldn’t want to anger.

 

The owl-like dragon only cocked its head at him, blinking its large orange-yellow eyes and rumbling in its throat. It turned to look at the auburn dragon and squawked at him as the woman who’d been on its back walked towards him. The auburn dragon looked at the other and crooned low in response, lowering his head.

 

Rumbling in thought, the owl-like dragon looked at its rider, and as she walked closer to him, Jack noticed that she was just as tall as he was, she had long auburn brown colored hair with streaks of light gray in a set of thick braid that trailed down her back, she was slender and lithe, her cheekbones were sharp and defined. She seemed to be his mother’s age.

 

But what made his breath hitch were her eyes. 

 

They were a summer green, and the color was oddly familiar.

 

Jack couldn’t find any words to say as she approached, stopping a few feet away from him. He leaned in a bit closer to the dragon, enough so that his shoulder lightly pressed against his scales, and she stared at the sight.

 

Rather like his mother, her crows feet were well-defined when she smiled. It was a crooked one.

 

“I trust that you’ve had a safe journey?” She asked. Her voice was an even lower register than his mother’s and her accent was thick, but it was a warm voice.

 

Her question pulled him out of trying to figure out where he’d seen those green eyes before while she waited for him to respond.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” He said, scratching at his chin. “It--It was fine.”

 

Her smile widened. “Good. I know it can be a bit overwhelming to travel in this fashion, but I’m pleased to hear that all went well.” She turned to look at the other two, who were far more relaxed than Jack was. “No trouble on the way here?”

 

Fishlegs shook his head, smiling. “Nope! No trouble at all! It was pretty smooth flying the entire way. Freyr was kind to us today.”

 

The woman glanced at Astrid, her smile falling into a serious line. Astrid sobered and shared a similar look with her. The atmosphere felt heavier.

 

“And as far as we all could tell, nobody saw us. We would’ve known if we’d been seen.”

 

The woman hummed then nodded, satisfied, and her face relaxed. When she looked at Jack again, it was with a smile.

 

“And you must be Jackson.”

 

Jack instinctively reached for his staff and held it to his chest. “Yeah, that’s-that’s me,” He said lamely. “But I usually just go by ‘Jack.’” His brow furrowed and he asked as politely as possible, “Who’re you?”

 

Her smile widened. “I’m Valka. I’m Håkon’s mother, and I welcome you to Berk.”

 

It took a few seconds for it to sink in. This was Valka, she was Håkon’s mother. Håkon was the prince. If she was his mother, then that made her the queen.

 

Oh gods she was the _queen_.

 

His face felt quite hot. Then, he realized that he’d been staring at her stupidly for half a minute without saying a word and she was raising an eyebrow at him as she waited. “O-Oh,” he squeaked. Fishlegs smothered a snort. “You are, well, um, it’s really nice to meet you, Miss--..Ma’a-- Uh, Your High--”

 

Laughing, she shook her head and held a hand up to stop him, his mouth shutting with a click. His nose and his cheeks were a bright red and he could hear and feel the auburn dragon chuffing next to him. Traitor.

 

“Just call me ‘Valka,’ Jack. Titles aren’t necessary here.” Her smile widened and her eyes were warm. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for members of the family to call each other by royal titles.”

 

Jack almost stumbled there and then.

 

Right, this woman before him was the prince’s mother, a queen, and she was eventually going to be his mother-in-law.

 

Ohhhh he was even more thankful that he hadn’t had much to eat that day. His stomach wouldn’t have been able to handle it. He could only swallow and give a mute nod, his face feeling hot, and her brows knit together in empathy.

 

His eyes lowered and he mumbled, his cheeks flushed, “..Right, yeah, noted. No royal titles, got it.”

 

The auburn dragon’s green eyes flickered towards Jack and he gave a low rumble, turning his head to give a light nudge to his arm. Blinking, Jack looked at him and his flush eased away at the concern on the auburn dragon’s draconic face. Forgetting that Valka was still there, he rubbed the dragon’s snout, relaxing at the feeling of the leathery texture against his skin.

 

Valka watched them, how they interacted, and her gaze lingered on Jack’s hand on the dragon’s snout. She smiled and took a step forward.

 

“I see he took good care of you,” She said softly. She stood before the auburn dragon and the dragon slowly pulled his snout away from Jack’s hand so that he could look at her. His green eyes were soft and he crooned at her, then lowered his head into her awaiting hands. 

 

Jack took a step back and watched as the older woman’s smile widened while she rubbed at his scales.

 

Hearing the happy trill, Jack smiled and wondered what their relationship was, why the dragon seemed so comfortable with her. “Aside from nearly bucking me off of the saddle on accident the first time we landed, yeah, he has.”

 

Talking about the auburn dragon made speaking to her easier and feel more comfortable

 

Valka’s eyebrows raised and she cupped the dragon’s chin in her hands, narrowing her eyes at him to see if Jack was being truthful. The auburn dragon blinked his large, wide green eyes at her and he rumbled deep in his chest, making her smile.

 

“Good,” she whispered. She let her hands lower from the auburn dragon when the owl-like dragon hovered over her shoulder and warbled. The auburn dragon bobbed his head in response and moved back a few steps to give the other dragon more room.

 

Chuckling, Valka stroked the owl-like dragon’s chin. “I suppose I ought to introduce you to Cloudjumper. I assume Fishlegs told you about a few of the dragons here.” At his nod, she smiled further. “Cloudjumper is a Stormcutter, and he’s my dragon.”

 

The Stormcutter puffed his chest out in pride and the auburn dragon huffed, green eyes half-lidded.

 

Jack took the time to admire the owl-like dragon as the queen turned to the quiet pair who’d been watching them with wariness that became amusement and shared humor. She walked towards them as Jack watched the Stormcutter and the auburn dragon talk to each other, warbling and rumbling.

 

“You two can go home and rest for now, I’ll see you both and your dragons in a few hours.” Her voice lowered, “He’ll be joining you, too.”

 

Astrid’s brows rose and she murmured, glancing at Jack and the two dragons, seeing Jack cautiously approach Cloudjumper, “How’d he convince him?”

 

Valka grinned. “He didn’t have to. He beat his father to the punch and signed up all on his own.”

 

\---

 

When it was time for Fishlegs and Astrid to leave, Jack watched as they ascended on their dragons, and Valka told him she was going to take him to his room, which he soon learned was the house of the royal family. He was reluctant to leave the auburn dragon. At the frantic expression on his face, looking between the queen and the dragon, Valka was quick to assure him that he’d see the auburn dragon tomorrow. They’d had a long journey and the dragon needed to rest for the night, just as Jack needed to, at least for a few hours.

 

He turned to the auburn dragon, took his large jaw in his palms and asked him, his brows set and frown in place, “Do you promise that I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

The deep green eyes looked into his brown, unblinking, and with a low purr, the auburn dragon leaned in to press his snout lightly against Jack’s forehead.

 

Jack smiled and bid him goodnight.

 

The dragon’s lips seemed to curl upwards.

 

Jack watched as the auburn dragon flew away and disappeared somewhere into the fog, and Valka gently led him inside the large house. 

 

A fire was burning, he heard it crackle as the floorboards creaked under his feet while Valka led him through the house. The inside was fairly dark, and the wood was a deep brown, but it was warm and made the tip of his cold nose and the shell of his ears tingle as he walked down the hallways. 

 

It wasn’t anything like the marble castle he’d imagined it being, nothing like the watercolors in storybooks and the illustrations that would be sold in the village marketplace, but remembering his mother’s stories about the Berkians, having met a couple of them himself, and having seen their village, Jack decided that those wisps of marble and stone didn’t fit them. The very thought seemed to go against them as a people, and Jack could find a particular beauty to its practicality 

 

Valka took him up an entire flight of stairs before they reached what would be his room. The door was oak and it creaked as she opened it, revealing a spacious room with a full bed that had curtains tied at the posts, curtains he could pull if he wanted to block out the light, large windows that had a view of the mountains and the ocean in the distance, and a fireplace that was already crackling and burning. It was twice the size of his old room.

 

Sucking in a breath, he took a step inside and looked around the room. It didn’t look lived in at all. It was pristine and clean, the air was warm due to the burning fire, but there were no personal items that made it feel like home. Jack had the feeling that no one lived had in this room for quite some time.

 

Brow furrowing, the question spilled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

 

“Does the prince not sleep in here?”

 

Valka’s eyes widened and she blinked at him. Jack felt his neck go hot and he looked away from her, flustered and surprised at himself for such a bold question.

 

An awkward pause followed before she answered. “No, he doesn’t sleep here. This will be your room, and yours alone, as long as you will it.”

 

His brows furrowed again. “But.. I thought that, since, we’re, um...”

 

He made a vague gesture of his hand and Valka held back a sudden laugh at the movement and how familiar it was to her. He wasn’t quite as, well, _animated_ as her son was, nor quite as theatrical and dramatic, but the flair was there. The flush forming on his face was quite amusing as well.

 

“Oh, no no. We wouldn’t do that until after the ceremony,” or until they felt comfortable enough with each other to sleep in the same bed, though she didn’t say so. It wasn’t unusual for married couples to sleep in separate beds, either. “As I said, this room is yours alone, and you ought to get some rest for a few hours.”

 

She smiled, took the handle of the door, and began to close it.

 

“I’ll come fetch you in a few hours.” Her smile stretched into a grin. “Best be rested up for when my husband introduces you to our people.”

 

_And to our son_.

 

Jack’s brown eyes widened in mild terror at this sudden information (thought perhaps he really should’ve expected this; so much for not being overwhelmed, Fishlegs) and she made a note to herself to make sure that no one tried to got too close to the boy when he was brought out to the arena; he’d had quite the day already and this was overwhelming enough for him. Both him and her son, who would’ve preferred to have kept Jack’s arrival as quiet as possible; but he was the prince, and this was a monumental occasion in his career as a prince. He couldn’t decry that in front of his father, though he certainly did try.

 

With a final smile, she closed the door behind her with a click and heard Jack mutter a strained ‘great’ under his breath as she did so. When it was shut, her smile fell and she pressed her back against the wall. She dragged her hands down the sides of her face, then hugged her arms.

 

_Please_ , she prayed, _please love him. Love him and save my boy, Jack_.

 

\---

 

Gods, everything hurt.

 

He didn’t even know that part of his body could get so sore!

 

Feet bumping against metal pots and tools, he breathed harshly and stumbled through the workshop, hissing when his ankle hit a piece of metal and cursing loudly under his breath when his toe smacked against a wrench. If it weren’t for the large black wing keeping him upright, he was sure that he would’ve collapsed already. He held onto Toothless’s side and his neck as he pushed himself back up, grimacing as his calves spasmed and twitched.

 

Normally, considering how many times he’d made this exact journey, this wouldn’t bother him so much, but the added weight probably hadn’t helped.

 

He didn’t regret it, though. Not for a second.

 

Thank Thor that Gobber wasn’t in the shop, or else he really would’ve doomed himself. He dragged his fingers along his bare skin, pulled at his cheeks, and let himself be lowered to the ground as Toothless dipped down to the floor in a sitting position. Muscles relaxing, he sighed and let his head fall back against the black dragon’s side. Closing his eyes, he relaxed and drifted into a brief, light nap against Toothless, the dragon joining him. An hour or so passed, and then Toothless’s tail flopped into his lap and he grumbled, nudging it against his rider’s stomach.

 

Green eyes opened again and tiredly narrowed at the black dragon. Then, he snorted and sat up straight.

 

“All right, fine, Mr. Bossy, I’ll take it off.”

 

Toothless chuffed in satisfaction while his rider took hold of his tail and started to unhook the prosthetic tail-fin. It came off with a click and he set it aside, only for Toothless to nudge it further away with his nose, sniffing and giving a low growl at the device.

 

Smiling, his rider grabbed hold of the red prosthetic strapped to Toothless’s saddle and hooked it back up to his tail, and once it clicked into place, Toothless purred and rubbed his nose against his face in gratitude. He rubbed at the black dragon’s nose and relaxed against him again with a sigh. He glanced out the windows and his smile fell into a thoughtful frown; the torches were burning large and bright already and he could hear everyone bustling about in the distance as they made their way towards the arena.

 

He’d taken a nap before coming to the shop but he’d been full of such anxiousness at the thought of finally being able to talk to Jack and meet him face to face that it’d been a light and uneasy one. Well, it would have to be enough. He’d taken part in the races on even less amount of sleep before, though he would’ve appreciated being able to rest properly without his father having to make a spectacle out of Jack’s arrival.

 

“Why, dad, _whyyyyy?_ ”

 

Toothless chuffed as his rider whined and pulled at his face.

 

It wasn’t until he heard the beating of the drums that he found it in himself to move away from Toothless. He groaned loudly, rolled his eyes and pushed himself off of the floor. Blinking awake again, Toothless stood up as well and followed his grumbling rider as he walked to the back of the shop. His nose twitched at the smell of paint and Toothless gave his rider a gummy smile, wriggling his body in excitement.

 

His rider snorted and pulled out a brush.

 

“At least one of us is excited and isn’t about to puke his guts out of nervousness, now hold still, would you--”

 

Toothless crooned at him but he stopped wriggling to let his rider methodically stroke the brush down the span of his wings in red paint, then his claws, the fins at the base of his tail, and finally the ‘v’ on his forehead. The color matched the prosthetic tail-fin.

 

The black dragon kneaded his claws into the ground as his rider changed into a shirt with sleeves that ended at his elbows, put on arm guards, and then dipped two fingers into the red paint. He smeared the paint against his arms in red bands, and then stroked similar looking stripes onto his helmet.

 

Holding the helmet in his hands, he frowned down at it, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The drums beat louder, then he heard his father’s deep, booming voice and the excited cries and applause of his people, and they opened again.

 

Toothless nudged against his back and he glanced down at him. He gave a wry half-smile.

 

“Looks like it’s game time, bud. You ready?”

 

The black dragon rumbled in affirmation and the rider grinned.

 

He glared fiercely at the helmet, and with a heavy sigh, placed it over his head, his hair tucking beneath it. Once it was on, he looked back at Toothless. His eyes crinkled behind the leather.

 

“Time to win another race.”

 

\---

 

When Valka shut the bedroom door behind her, Jack was at a loss at what to do next. Keeping his staff clutched in his hand, he walked slowly around the room, frown on his lips. Now having a better look at the room, it really did seem untouched. Twice the size of his old room and it would be entirely his; he wouldn’t have to share it with anyone. Not even the person who was the reason he was there in the first place.

 

Scowl on his lips, he scoffed under his breath and tossed his bag onto the bed, making the mattress bounce slightly under its weight. Taking off his cloak, he left his staff on top of the mattress and went towards the window, sitting himself down on the seat underneath it and rested his elbows on the windowsill. He tucked his chin in his arms and watched the gray skies darken in the distance as the sun slowly began to set.

 

He drank in the sight, because it would be one he would have to get used to from that point onward. It was a view he would wake up to every morning.

 

It would’ve been a far prettier sight if the moon were visible, but it was hidden behind the clouds, though there was a rough sort of beauty to the rugged mountains that stretched along the coast, shielding the village from sight, the ocean in the distance. What made the sight better were the dragons he saw flying around the village.

 

Although it was quite remarkable, it had nothing on the view of the woods from out his window back home, when the moon was high, bright, and beaming down from the inky darkness of night,the sky lit with stars.

 

Chest feeling rather tight, Jack swallowed and rubbed at it with his palm and thought of home, of his mother and his sister, and wondered what they were doing. He sniffed once, swallowed a small lump in his throat and then rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand when the tight feeling grew stronger.

 

He stared out at the beams of orange and red fading into darkness over the mountains until his eyelids began to droop, at which point he decided that a nap would be most agreeable. He dragged himself towards the bed, stared down at it, noting how large it was compared to his old bed, and then threw himself on top of it, face first. It was when he was just starting to drift off that he noticed the leather bag brushing against his ankle and remembered the little box that was inside it. Using his leg to bring it closer to him, he opened it, rummaged through the contents, and then, upon feeling the brush of brown paper against his fingers, pulled out the item he was after.

 

Turning over onto his back, he opened it, tearing off the brown paper packaging and finding a brown wooden box beneath it. Brows furrowed, he opened the lid.

 

Inside was a brass compass.

 

The compass was only slightly smaller than the size of his palm and the metal was old and weathered, but it was still rather handsome in its brown sheen. Balancing it on his hand, he watched as the arrow twitched about before suddenly coming to a stop at west. Running his thumb over the protective glass, a smile grew on his lips and he laughed when he turned the compass around in his hand, making the arrow twitch as it found direction.

 

There was a letter that’d fallen out of the packaging, and holding the compass in one hand, he picked up the paper, unfolded it, and read the scrawled ink on the yellowed parchment.

 

_Jack,_

 

_I was going to give this to you as a gift for your next birthday, but I thought that it would be more appropriate to give it to you now. This compass belonged to me when I was young, passed down through my family, and when I was lost, it took me home. Perhaps it will be of some use to you, too, should you ever find yourself lost and trying to get home. May it help you find your way back during a time of need._

 

_Take care. We love you._

 

_All my love,_

 

_Your mother._

 

The words blurred together and, his eyes feeling hot, Jack sucked in a breath as he gripped the letter tight enough to make the paper crinkle audibly between his fingers. He lowered the compass and the letter to his lap and buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as it all hit him at once;

 

He’d just left home on the back of a dragon and flown all the way to Berk. He was leagues away from Burgess and he was to be married to a prince, a prince he was to meet for the first time in only a few hours. He was getting married, something he’d barely even thought about until he’d gotten the letter of proposal. Most of all, he wasn’t sure when he would see his mother and sister again.

 

Gods. He missed them already. He missed them so much.

 

He didn’t regret his decision, but he was still allowed to miss them, wasn’t he?

 

His head felt heavy, clouded and foggy, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d cried for, but he found himself waking up to the sound of a knock on the door, his eyes red, swollen and slightly puffy. He looked out the window to find that the sky had cleared enough to see the stars.

 

He blinked at the sound of Valka’s voice through the door and rubbed his eyes, cleared his throat and got off of the bed to open the door. 

 

Valka saw the slightly swollen eyelids, but aside from a slight widening of her eyes, she didn’t bring attention to them and told him to put his cloak back on; they were to meet the king in a few minutes. 

 

Grateful, Jack nodded and went to fetch his cloak and put it on, pausing when he saw the brass compass sitting on the bed. After a moment of thought, he put the compass in his cloak pocket and met Valka at the doorway.

 

They walked out of the house in silence and Jack wasn’t surprised to see Cloudjumper waiting outside for his rider, but instead of Valka climbing onto his back and the dragon taking flight, the dragon walked alongside his rider as Valka led him to their destination. Jack thought about breaking the silence but his voice failed him, as did his mind, because he could think of nothing to say to her. He wasn’t sure what to say to a queen of all people, especially one who would eventually be his mother-in-law.

 

...And that was incredibly strange to think about, and it wouldn’t stop being strange until he actually met the prince, whenever that would be, so he decided that he was just going to focus his attention on something else.

 

Such as where Valka could be leading him.

 

The walk wasn’t long and the brisk winter air cooled his irritation with the prince he was soon to meet, and he used the limited amount of time they had to admire Berk during the nighttime. Lanterns and torches were lit all over, giving the village a warm orange glow, flickering off of the white snow below their feet, caked to roofs and houses. 

 

The sight of still dragons nesting on rooftops was a little startling, and Valka hid a smile at Jack’s ‘whoa!’ at the sight of a large, lizard-like dragon sleeping on a roof, long tail hanging over the side.

 

She told Jack that the dragon was a Monstrous Nightmare and Jack had to wonder who had the bright idea to name these dragons and why anyone let them. Though, when she told him that Monstrous Nightmares could set themselves on fire when threatened or when they wanted to be intimidating, the name suddenly made much more sense.

 

Not for the first time that day he wondered how on earth vikings managed to tame dragons, of all creatures, enough to the point that they could _ride_ them, but before he could finally open his mouth to ask and break the suffocating silence, the sound of an entire crowd of people chattering, joined by warbles and growls, stopped him.

 

Cloudjumper rumbled, spread his wings and flew upwards to perch on top of a tall pillar to perch on top of what looked like a stadium or an arena. It was lit with an orange light from all of the torches that stood tall along the stands full of people, and on the top row were several dragons, their yellow eyes glittering and glowing in the torchlight.

 

Once Jack was done standing in awe, he narrowed his eyes and searched the orange lit darkness.

 

But he found no sign of the auburn dragon.

 

Frown on his lips, Valka had his attention again when she called his name and beckoned him to a door leading into the arena for... what? Why did she bring him here?

 

Brow furrowed and jaw slightly clenched, his hand sought out the compass in his cloak and rubbed against the metal, the coolness of it soothing to his fingers as he followed Valka into the hallway, blinking through the darkness. She didn’t have him walking for much longer and they came to another doorway, lit by the lanterns outside, where someone was waiting.

 

Someone who was quite tall, had a very long, thick beard, wore a helmet with sharp horns jutting out from the sides, as well as a dark brown cloak, and had his hands folded behind his back. The figure turned when Valka stepped closer, and Jack’s jaw dropped a little.

 

It was a man, and he was _huge._

 

Not only was he practically the size of a bear, but he was also muscular. His arms seemed as if they were two times as wide as Jack’s body. He looked like he could crush Jack like a twig without breaking a sweat.

 

Jack clutched the inside of his cloak and swallowed hard.

 

Valka showed no such hesitance as she walked towards the large man, a smile on her lips, and grasped his forearm. She murmured something to the man and he looked at her, blinked, then said something back to her that Jack couldn’t hear. He’d stopped in place the moment Valka walked towards the large man.

 

The man placed a hand over Valka’s on his arm, a gentle gesture and full of warmth despite how his hand completely covered and dwarfed her slender, thin one. His lips, hidden underneath a thick red mustache streaked with gray, just like his beard, turned upwards. They smiled at each other with such tenderness that Jack had to look away, feeling like he was intruding on a precious moment.

 

Valka glanced at him and indicated the younger male, and the man’s blue eyes, speckled with hints of green, fell on Jack. Jack heard heavy footsteps coming his way and forced himself to meet the large man’s eyes, straightening his back and shoulders. He didn’t dare say a word.

 

The man stared at him for a long beat, as if sizing him up, before he broke the silence, “You must be Jackson.”

 

His accent was just as thick as his wife’s, and his baritone seemed to rumble from somewhere deep in his chest. It was quite fitting.

 

Jack swallowed and forced a jerky nod. “I usually go by Jack,” he said, barely managing not to croak. He tried for one of his small, charming grins, but it was uneasy on his lips.

 

The man’s face was infuriatingly difficult to read and Jack felt panic bubbling in his chest before the man spoke again, “It’s a pleasure to finally put a face to the name. My son has not stopped talking about you for several weeks.”

 

Jack croaked out a small ‘oh,’ his neck turning red. He wasn’t sure how to respond or how it made him feel, but it made his stomach twist slightly.

 

The man smiled. “My name is Stoick, and I am Håkon’s father. I’m sure that my wife and queen,” his blue eyes lit with pride, “Already welcomed you here, but I’ll repeat her words; welcome to Berk.”

 

_He’s the king. Oh gods, he’s Håkon’s father he’s the_ **_king_ ** _._

 

Jack felt several feet shorter as he mumbled out a ‘thank you’ to the man, his face hot and his hands clammy. He wished he’d brought the staff with him. It wouldn’t do much against such a bear of a man, but the sentiment would’ve been enough, just to know that he had it in his hands.

 

The king and queen glanced at each other, sharing amused smiles, and then stared at Jack who was looking at something apparently quite interesting on the ground. The three heard the rumble of the crowd above them, the stomping of their feet in the stands, and their excited cheers as they waited for the event to start. Jack even heard the encouraging roars of dragons above them, muffled but as powerful as ever.

 

..What were they all here for?

 

Stoick shook his head and laughed, adjusting his belt to pull it up further on his abdomen and clasped his hand together. “Well, we should head on upstairs. Can’t keep ‘em waiting for much longer.”

 

They’d already started walking when Jack blurted out, “Uh, why are they all here? What’s going on?”

 

Valka and Stoick looked over their shoulders at him in sync and Jack found it a little eerie, even more-so when they both smiled.

 

“They’re waiting for the Dragon Race to start, a race we’re holding in your honor.”

 

Jack was in a daze as he was led up the stairs to the stands with Valka and Stoick, stunned speechless at the fact that there was a race being held for him when he most definitely did not warrant such an event. He’d stammered just that out, but the king simply laughed and told him not to be so humble, of course it was warranted; it wasn’t every day the king’s only heir brought home a future spouse, and it was something worth celebrating.

 

 Valka smiled warmly at the dark red flush on the back of Jack’s neck, spreading towards his cheeks and his nose, reminded of the red tips of her son’s ears when he tried to tell his father not to make a huge deal out of it should Jack say yes.

 

Needless to say, their son’s pleas went unheard, and she was sure that the flustered embarrassment was shared both by he and their soon to be son-in-law.

 

Overwhelmed, the crowd was a blur cleared and broken only by the brisk, cold winter night and Jack was led to sit down on the highest stand. 

 

On it were two large chairs, then two more slightly smaller in size. Valka and Stoick sat in the two larger ones, and flapping behind their chairs was a great tapestry, green in color. Sewed into it was the picture of the king riding a stout dragon, red scaled with a vicious horn on the tip of its snout, and next to it was the image of Valka riding Cloudjumper, simplified but elegant in color and in form. 

 

Jack was invited to sit in one of the smaller chairs, and feeling hundreds, if not thousands of eyes on him, both human and not, Jack covered his head with his hood and pulled it close to his face.

 

The suffocating feeling of having so many eyes on him, something he never thought he would experience, only worsened when Stoick stood to introduce him and to begin the race.

 

It began routinely: Stoick introduced himself and his wife in a rather jovial, familiar way, and Jack was surprised by just how informal his speech was with his people. 

 

There was still a slight distance between them and Stoick, but overall, his voice and tone was friendly, accessible, not showing an aggravating sense of superiority over his people as he’d heard travelers and merchants mutter about back home. He also went over the basic rules of the race and Jack’s interest was piqued.

 

Valka hid a grin as Jack pulled his hood back a little to hear Stoick more clearly.

 

Every marked white sheep was one point, the single black sheep was worth ten points, and the first one to catch the black sheep ended the game. For this particular game, there would be no teams; every rider was out for themselves. Before he introduced the riders, he then (much to Jack’s mortification) introduced Jack, a broad hand gesturing towards him and a bright expression on his face.

 

“I have to admit, I was just as surprised as the rest of you when my son came up to me only a few weeks ago telling me that he’d found someone he wanted to marry! How he even found the time for it will always be a mystery to me, and who would have thought that that stubborn, wayward boy would ever settle down?!”

 

His face positively burning, Jack pulled his hood closer around his face and Valka rolled her eyes as she folded her hands in her lap. 

 

Her eyes narrowed playfully towards her husband, and she interjected, “Where do you suppose he gets that stubbornness from, Stoick?”

 

A coy smile curled on her lips and her husband’s cheeks flushed. “And where does that restless spirit come from, Val?” He said lowly, his eyes crinkling into a smile full of warmth.

 

She smiled back at him with just as much love and warmth and Jack’s curiosity would’ve been piqued further if not for the feeling of hundreds of eyes looking up at him, some people trying to push others out of the way so that they could see their prince’s intended’s face, wanting to get a good look at him, because surely it had to be a remarkable person to actually be able to tie their prince down, not to mention catch his attention.

 

Jack wished he was an icicle so that he could melt into the ground and disappear.

 

(He wasn’t the only one, as the prince himself was burying his covered face in his hands and groaning loudly into his palms, “ _Daaaaad, stooooppp,_ ” much to the amusement of his dragon. For once, he was glad to have his face concealed by his helmet. No one else had to see just how red his face was.)

 

Stoick turned back to the now quieting crowd, continuing his speech, and his expression softened in a way Jack didn’t think possible for a viking warrior.

 

“But as both a king and a father, nothing makes me happier than to see your prince and my son find someone who makes him so happy, and I personally welcome my son’s intended, Jackson Overland, to Berk and to the Haddock family. Treat him kindly and well.”

 

A hush fell over the crowd, somber, and if Jack hadn’t been so desperately hiding his face, he might have seen the sadness flash across both the king and queen’s faces. But it was gone before it could be seen, least of all by the crowd.

 

Grin curling on his lips, Stoick clasped his hands together.

 

“Well, what are we waiting for!? Let the race BEGIN!”

 

The crowd cheered, and brown eyes peeked through the gaps in Jack’s fingers, unable to resist.

 

He heard them before he saw them.

 

Granted, night had already fallen, but the torches and lanterns lit all over the village gave a glow to their surroundings, the light bouncing off of the snow, and giving him the ability to see, but it was still quite dark. 

 

Before he could see any of them, he heard the roars of five dragons, harsh, boisterous and loud laughter, the flap of wings, and the bleating of startled and frightened sheep. 

 

The tips of his fingers dragged down his face as he lowered his hands and looked up to see five different dragons streak across the sky, their wings, legs and faces painted, matching the riders on their backs.

 

He recognized two of the riders and their dragons, and Jack gave a faint smile at the sight of Meatlug’s short wings flapping wildly as she dove down to grasp a sheep between her claws, her tongue lolling out. Fishlegs gave a sort of warbling battle cry, shuddering from the shaking of his saddle, and Jack huffed a laugh.

 

A red-scaled Monstrous Nightmare, marked with bright red and yellow paint, snuck up behind him and smacked Meatlug with the back of his tail, causing her to release the sheep. The crowd swelled with both cheers and hollers of ‘ _Foul!_ ’ and Jack’s hands lowered to grip the arms of the chair.

 

“ _SNOTLOUT!_ That was mine--! Stop playing dirty, you cheat--!”

 

The ‘Snotlout’ in question only grinned and jeered out, “Oh! I’m sorryy _yyy_ , Fishlegs! But last I checked, that wasn’t cheating! Suck on that, bookworm!”

 

He sure seemed... pleasant.

 

Snorting and relieved that everyone else’s attention seemed to finally be off of him, Jack straightened up in his seat and watched properly, excitement and traces of adrenaline pulsing through his veins as he watched the game.

 

Fishlegs gave a loud noise of annoyance and went after Snotlout, who was then intercepted by a two-headed dragon, a Hideous Zippleback. Jack remembered Fishlegs telling him about those dragons on the way to Berk, and on the back of the dragon was a pair of white-blonde haired twins wearing sharp grins that stretched high on their cheeks. They dove underneath the Monstrous Nightmare, where one head breathed out a thick green gas. 

 

Jack saw sparks fly before an explosion caused him to jump back in his seat, startled.

 

Cackles echoed across the night sky and Jack heard Valka chuckle softly under her breath next to him, making his face hot with embarrassment.

 

“A right terror, those two are,” She murmured. “Always causing trouble. They seem to have a penchant for setting things on fire, and can cause quite the ruckus around here when they happen to get bored. Their names are Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston.”

 

Jack really wanted to know who was behind the naming here on Berk.

 

The twins were the first to drop a sheep into a basket, earning themselves a point, and they bumped their heads together in triumph. A short-lived triumph.

 

There were cries of applause from one side of the arena and Stoick suddenly blurted out a ‘ _YES!_ ’ that had Jack whipping his gaze to the baskets. At the right end of the row was the twins’ sheep, but on the far left side was another sheep, looking quite disgruntled at being thrown into a basket so high above the ground. Above the basket was a flap of wood with a black dragon painted on it.

 

Brown eyes stared hard into the darkness and they widened when Jack saw something dart across the sky; a streak of black and red against the glow of orange and yellow, but it moved too fast for him to focus on it. Squinting, he leaned forward in his chair as he tried to look for it again, for the dragon who’d moved too fast for him to see what it looked like.

 

He thought he felt a pair of eyes on him and it made his shoulders stiffen as he sought out who it could be, but then the feeling was gone.

 

Frowning heavily, he settled back in his chair and continued to watch the race. The excitement of the crowd was contagious and he wound up forgetting about the pair of eyes on him as more and more sheep were dropped into the baskets. It wasn’t long before he was enjoying himself, and since Astrid and Fishlegs were competing against each other, he didn’t have the heart to side with either of them. He was just content to watch.

 

But he grew increasingly frustrated with the decision to have the game take place at night because he _knew_ there was a fifth player and a fifth dragon flying about. The basket full of grumpy sheep was hint enough, but the fifth dragon seemed to blend in with the night sky, even with the orange glow of the village. The most Jack saw was a streak of red flashing by with a figure on its back. The dragon and its rider simply flew too fast for him to see, even more frustrating because he could hear the dragon’s excited warbles and roars of triumph as it flew about, but Jack couldn’t get a good look at it. The dragon flew just as fast as Stormfly, if not even faster.

 

It intrigued him and Jack wasn’t the most patient person when it came to his burning curiosity and the desire to _know_.

 

And all throughout the race, when the blur of black and red raced by him, Jack could’ve sworn he felt someone looking at him.

 

Hopefully he would know who the rider was and get a better look at the dragon the rider belonged to by the end of the race, which was gradually approaching.

 

Fishlegs and Snotlout seemed to have a rather prickly dynamic with each other, given the insults that kept flying between them as they wrestled for the sheep, while the twins really, really seemed to like explosions and taking the other dragon riders by surprise as they snuck up on them with their two-headed dragon. Which was named Barf and Belch. Apparently.

 

Whoever chose the names around Berk must’ve been an ancestor of the twins, Jack concluded.

 

Astrid and Stormfly were agile and quick, and Jack was quite impressed with the amount of acrobatics Astrid used in order to snag the sheep from her opponents, one time even darting off of Stormfly to race between Barf and Belch and grab the sheep just as the twins fought for it, bringing the poor sheep into a tug of war. Astrid took advantage of their self-induced distraction, sped across the Zippleback’s spine and leapt between the two heads, grabbing the sheep and landing back in her saddle on Stormfly.

 

If it weren’t such an amusing sight and Jack wasn’t already feeling a nervous twist in his stomach knowing that after this was over, he would finally meet this mysterious prince that still hadn’t shown up, he would’ve written or shouted out a complaint about the treatment of the poor sheep. They were delicate creatures and should be treated with respect!

 

Though these sheep in particular seemed to be rather sturdy and mostly okay with being tossed about like the rag dolls young children would play with, aside from being startled, disgruntled and put out. Jack snorted; how very appropriate for them to be as hardy as the vikings that raised them.

 

Once the last of the white sheep was dropped into another basket, Astrid with the most points at four, the mystery black dragon rider at three, the rest all having tied at two, Stoick called for a man with a hook for a hand and a peg leg that Jack hadn’t seen before and said, “Gobber, it’s time!”

 

The man gave a toothy grin and Jack was almost positive he saw a rock in place of an actual tooth. “Ya got it.” He turned to a man standing on a column that held a large horn and shouted, “Signal ‘em, ya berk!”

 

Jack jolted a little at the sound of the giant horn being blown into, the loud noise echoing through the village. The crowd surged and grew in volume, some young children clanking their helmets against their parents’ helmets, and the chattering and excited trills and screeches of the dragons filled the air. The man named ‘Gobber’ disappeared and four out of five riders seemed to be racing to one specific area, urging their dragons to go faster, and Jack squinted, raising up slightly in his seat to try to find the fifth dragon.

 

He got a little distracted by the bleating of a black sheep being catapulted into the air.

 

Jack gaped, feeling a bit of sympathetic horror for the poor sheep when, like vultures, the four riders he could see swarmed in on the poor sheep. But, gods dammit, he couldn’t help but watch in anticipation.

 

Astrid was the first to reach the sheep, and Stormfly almost had caught it in her claws before the Monstrous Nightmare (named Hookfang, Jack recalled. He’d heard Snotlout triumphantly shouting the dragon’s name earlier after earning a point) swooped in and grabbed it. He heard Astrid bark out in anger and disappointment, to which Snotlout only laughed as he and his dragon twisted around and started streaking for the basket.

 

Jack faintly heard an ‘ _OI OI OI!_ ’ shouted amongst the throng of cheers and looked for the source of it, bewildered.

 

Fortunately, he looked back at Snotlout just as he was nearing the basket, about to make the final dunk and end the game, or else he would’ve never seen _him_.

 

His breath hitched when he saw a streak of black and red suddenly fly upwards from below, and Snotlout was left grasping at air. 

 

Snotlout gaped, and then his eyes narrowed while he shook his fist, turned his dragon around and shouted into the air,

 

“ _THOR DAMMIT, HICCUP!_ You freakin’ scrawny **_show-off--_**!!”

 

Another voice echoed out, brimming with just barely held back laughter and a somewhat smug sense of pride, “I’d apologize, Snotlout, but you make it too easy!” The dragon the rider was flying on chuffed and warbled with amusement.

 

Jack’s breath caught in his throat at the sound of a distinctly male voice, somewhat muffled, but it echoed across the arena. The sound of it made the back of his neck tingle and something tugged at the back of his mind.

 

The voice sounded familiar. Distressingly familiar.

 

_Jack knew that voice_.

 

But.. who was Hiccup?

 

The rider and his dragon flew directly next to one of the torches and Jack finally, _finally_ got a better look at them; it was difficult not to see the dragon and its glowing green eyes, now that it’d slowed its pace.

 

The dragon was relatively small compared to Stormfly and Hookfang, though still quite large, and its scales were almost completely black aside from the bright red paint on its legs, wings, fins, and forehead. 

 

Jack’s fingernails dug into the wood of his chair, and narrowing his eyes at the dragon, he leaned forward to get a better look.

 

 The dragon’s eyes were green but they were a different sort of green from the auburn dragon; they were a bright emerald green and reminded Jack of the precious stones that he’d see being sold in the market back in Burgess, far too fine for him to even conceive having.

 

The dragon’s shape and body structure reminded Jack of both a bat and a feline, and now that he’d had a better look at it, it was no wonder that he couldn’t see the dragon earlier. Not only because of the sheer speed, but because it could blend in so easily with the darkness. The dragon was sleek, quick, and undoubtedly dangerous if it happened to be an enemy, but Jack also found the dragon rather beautiful.

 

Then, his attention fell on the rider, drawn to the bands of red painted on his exposed arms.

 

By the voice, a voice that sounded so very familiar to Jack but was so far off in the distance that he couldn’t clearly make it out, he guessed that the rider was male, and when he looked at the rider, whose face was concealed and protected from the cold by a leather and metal helmet, he saw a fairly masculine shape. He appeared to be rather skinny and slender, though, quite the contrast to so many of the other men on Berk that Jack’d seen, and Jack felt a bit of kinship with the rider (supposedly named ‘Hiccup,’). He was just about as skinny and lanky as himself.

 

But aside from a few tufts of hair peeking out below the rim of the helmet, he could see no hint of the rider’s face.

 

While trying to gauge where exactly he’d previously heard the rider’s voice before, he almost missed how the twins were gaining on the black dragon, and Jack’s eyes widened at the sight of a hammer one of the twins was carrying, about ready to swing it at the rider from behind.

 

Jack’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

 

Was that even _legal--!?_

 

“Eeeexcuse us, Hiccup! But we’re takin’ the glory today--!”

 

The black dragon warbled, startled, and the rider’s green eyes widened behind the helmet, looking over his shoulder. “ _Toothless--!_ ”

 

Still carrying the sheep between his claws, the black dragon dove down just as the twin holding the hammer swung at where the rider had just been, only to slam it against the back of his sister’s head. 

 

Jack hissed and flinched at the sight and the crowd did the same. The twins broke out into a fight and Jack leaned forward again to see where the black dragon, ‘Toothless,’ and his rider had gone.

 

He didn’t have to wait long.

 

The dragon shot up from the darkness below the arena and flew straight towards the baskets, gaining more and more speed. The black sheep was now in the rider’s thin arms, and Jack watched in astonishment as he suddenly stood up in his saddle. Just as they reached the goal, the rider was thrown out of the saddle by the dragon and into the air--

 

“ _Get it, Hiccup!_ ”

 

He barely heard Stoick’s shout of joy; he was transfixed on the sight of the helmeted rider throwing the black sheep into his assigned basket (not exactly with that much grace, he seemed to be fumbling a lot and nearly tripped over himself), calling the end of the race just as he fell back into his saddle.

 

“THAT’S MY BOY!”

 

That drew Jack’s attention and the roar and cries of triumph from the crowd erupted into a deafening chorus as the rider and his dragon flew around the arena in a circle before coming to a stop, the black dragon beating his wings to keep them aloft as the rider pumped a fist towards the dark, starlit sky in proud victory.

 

Brown eyes were wide as he looked at the expression of bright-eyed pride on Stoick’s face while he called the game, awarding the thirteen points to the black dragon’s rider. Valka was practically beaming at the rider named Hiccup and Jack was at a loss. 

 

It slowly sunk in and Jack felt the breath being sucked out of him as Stoick called out to the crowd once more,

 

“And Hiccup, Prince Håkon, once again takes the game!”

 

\---

 

Everything was a complete and utter blur to Jack as Valka gently led him out of his chair while Stoick spoke with smug fatherly pride to a rather disgruntled middle-aged man who resembled Snotlout quite a bit, and he could only nod dumbly as she brought him back downstairs into the arena’s quiet interior. He let her lead him down the stairs, but when he felt a slight shiver on the back of his neck, he looked over his shoulder to see the black dragon’s rider-- Hiccup, no, _Prince Håkon_ , looking at him through his helmet.

 

The back of his neck felt hot.

 

He turned away and the noise of the raucous crowd dimmed and lessened.

 

Valka’s thin hand on his shoulder was a mild comfort as he was numbly led through the arena, a thousand questions buzzing in his mind, his heart leaping into his throat and the image of the prince on his dragon, dark and sleek as the night, burned into the back of his eyes.

 

He hadn’t even seen his **face** and Jack could already feel his blood rushing through his ears. Maybe it was out of satisfaction, frustrated though it was, because he’d _finally_ gotten to see the prince himself and he was nervous about speaking to him in person. But maybe it had to do with the fact that actually seeing him, the prince he’d been waiting anxiously to meet for days, just made this situation and his choice all the more real.

 

He really accepted the prince’s proposal, he’d left home on the back of a dragon that’d become his lifelong friend, he came to Berk and was now living in the royal family’s home, a race had been held for him because of his arrival and engagement to their prince, and now he’d seen the prince and was about to speak to him for the first time.

 

It came like a punch to the gut and made it a bit difficult to breathe properly. Valka’s hand on his shoulder was an anchor to the real world, a sign that even here, in this unfamiliar and strange land he hadn’t known existed until a week before, he wasn’t alone.

 

But it wasn’t the same as having the auburn dragon with him and feeling his warm breath against his hair.

 

He wished the dragon could’ve been there.

 

Faintly wondering where the auburn dragon had gone, Jack was still in a daze until Valka broke the suffocating silence as she murmured in his ear, “He’s right through the doorway. I’ll make sure that nobody comes in to bother you two. I’m sure there’s a lot you both need to discuss.”

 

What an egregious understatement.

 

Jack heard the pouring of water from a bucket and a happy purr and trill of a dragon before the sound of a large brush scraping against scales, and he gave a short nod to her. He looked at the ground as he did so, swallowing and licking at his bottom lip as he forced himself to stand up straight and calm his nervous beating heart. It was a feeble, rather pointless effort, but at least he tried.

 

Smiling, she pat at his shoulder before her hand fell away, leaving him alone in the hallway.

 

As her footsteps faded into silence, Jack was left standing by the doorway, the sounds of that familiar voice and the trilling and cooing of a rather happy dragon echoing, muffled, in the room past the door. He remained still for a couple of minutes before he steeled himself, took a deep breath, held it, closed his eyes, and walked through the doorway.

 

The sound of a brush on smooth, leathery scales grew louder and Jack opened his eyes to see a head of messy brown-auburn hair.

 

The prince’s back was facing him and the red paint had been washed off of his arms, the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. The prince was just as lanky up close as he was from a distance in the arena, but Jack found that there were lean muscles on his arms as he pulled back and forth, brushing Toothless’s stomach. The black dragon was laying on his back, purring quite contentedly as the large brush that one would use for sweeping brushed over his belly.

 

He heard the prince give a snort as he moved to wash the paint off of the dragon’s legs. “You’re the most spoiled dragon in all of the archipelago, y’know that? The most spoiled one of them all.”

 

Toothless gave a long warble of affirmation that turned into a happy trill and Jack’s breath caught at the prince’s voice. His heart raced in his ears.

 

He knew that voice.

 

(The biting cold. The darkness. The air constricting in his lungs. The water so cold he couldn’t feel his fingertips or his toes. Someone pulling him out of the rush of the frozen pond. The warm darkness and touch of scales against his skin. Arms that kept him safe as his legs dangled over the sides of a flying beast.)

 

A voice that in spite of its odd quirks, felt so warm, so kind and so safe. A voice that led him home.)

 

How could he have forgotten that voice?

 

His eyes previously closed, the black dragon stopped squirming and purring, now oblivious to his rider’s coos and affectionate insults as emerald green eyes fell on Jack. He felt them on him and clenched his jaw as he met the dragon’s unblinking stare.

 

They were so different from the auburn dragon’s forest green.

 

“Bud?” The prince’s voice rang out with confusion and concern. “What’s wrong?”

 

Toothless rolled back onto his stomach and stood up, shaking and wriggling the excess water off of himself, and rumbled at his rider, inclining his head towards Jack. The prince’s back went rigid and Jack gripped the front of his shirt as the prince’s feet began to shift towards him. There was a pause and the prince took a deep breath just as Jack did, and then, then he finally turned around.

 

Brown eyes met forest green, and Jack was caught in them.

 

Håkon’s face, from his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, all the way to his forehead and his hairline was concealed behind a brown leather mask that had dark stitches decorating the fabric, and his brown-auburn hair was wild, mussed by the wind, and Jack saw freckles dotted all over his arms, even some on his neck and collarbone before they disappeared underneath the hem of his shirt.

 

But the one detail Jack was fixated on were the green eyes looking at him with so much feeling in them that he couldn’t decipher, intense but somehow shy, cautious, with a trace of something tender that made it difficult to look away.

 

_They look so familiar_ , Jack thought. _Where have I seen them before?_

 

Toothless was still and silent as Håkon set the large brush aside, and turned to face Jack properly. 

 

A tongue darted out to brush against his bottom lip and the prince seemed to struggle to find something to say, the fingers of one hand rubbing against each other, and Jack felt irritation spark in him at the prince’s silence. 

 

He’d waited this long and traveled so far to actually meet the reason he was even there in the first place and the guy couldn’t even say anything to him? Someone whom he supposedly wanted to spend the rest of his life with?

 

He was just about to open his mouth, his tongue ready and sharp with barbed words to give the prince a piece of his mind when the prince seemed to finally find his footing and looked up at him properly. Jack’s mouth closed when those green eyes met his again.

 

A small, hesitant smile, nervous and crooked but so warm, curled on the prince’s lips, and all of his irritated quips and comments came to a screeching halt in Jack’s mind. His lips parted, and Jack saw a flash of white teeth that were slightly bigger at the front than he was used to seeing.

 

“Hi, Jack,” Håkon said softly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> throws more plot at.
> 
> i am now very happy to say that i finally have a beta, so hopefully the oncoming chapters are more polished than they've been. as a result, and because i now work, updates might have lengthier gaps in between them.
> 
> BUT YES..... NOW COMES... INTERACTION like we've all been waiting for i'm sure haha.
> 
> hope you enjoy the chapter, ya'll!
> 
> ps. i got [fanart](http://amymvuong.tumblr.com/post/127135936059/and-heres-one-for-firecrotchette) !???!! HOW'D THAT HAPPEN....


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two young men, one who falls and must hide his face behind a mask, another with hundreds of questions hanging on the tip of his tongue. They meet, and something begins to shift.

 

He didn’t mean to fly so far away from Berk.

 

He never meant to fly so far south, all the way to lands they hadn’t gone to in nearly forty years. He only asked for a few days with Toothless away from the village. He promised his father that he would come home soon, that he wouldn’t be gone long. He’d told both of his parents that he was simply doing recon, to make sure that the borders of Berk were secure; he and Toothless were the best and the fastest of all the riders, and the other teenagers were doing their own observational missions completely on their own. Why couldn’t he go, too?

 

His father warned him not to be so reckless, his blue-green eyes wide and ablaze, his red beard glinting in the lantern light, reminding him of fire. His mother, her expression grave and crow’s feet defined and thick on her skin, asked him if he was eager to rush into the maw of death so quickly.

 

Convincing his parents to let him go had been a difficult task.

 

“They’ll expect me to stay here,” he’d said to his doubtful parents. “After all, why would I want to make myself so vulnerable by leaving Berk? Wouldn’t I want to lay low and not be seen? Surely I would never be so stupid as to leave home this soon. Of course I would stay. They’d never suspect a thing. And I have Toothless. I’ll be fine.”

 

The black dragon at his side crooned, the sound lacking the confidence it once had, and Toothless nuzzled his snout against his side. He’d traced his fingers along the ridges and rubbed his palm against the side of the dragon’s snout.

 

He didn’t want to admit to his parents that he was restless and agitated from being stuck in one place for over two months. How much he missed sucking in the cold air above the clouds and the sensation of Toothless’s muscles shifting against his calves with each beat of his wings. He hated being chained down to the tough soil of Berk, his feet forcibly planted to the dying grass and the frost coated stalks. Toothless hated it more than he.

 

The clanking of the metal of the prosthetic he’d built for the black dragon still rang loudly in his eardrums. It would’ve enabled him to fly on his own, without him entirely. Toothless had tossed it away when he’d first managed to put it on him and growled at his rider when he tried to latch it back onto his tail.

 

Neither of his parents let him out of their sight ever since it happened, not even his avid adventurer of a mother who’d always encouraged him to seek out new lands. Now, she joined his father in a duet of protestations against his going anywhere away from Berk. His father had always been the protective sort, anxious for his spindly little son who bruised too easily, got too close to the fire, explored the forests alone when he was smaller than he already was. His father’s defensive instincts had intensified, and he now had the strident support of his wife and queen.

 

It was too dangerous, they said. What if she did even worse?

 

“What worse could she do to me that she hasn’t done already?” He’d said.

 

They were silent.

 

He almost regretted uttering those words at the remorse on their faces. But he stood fast and stubborn, jaw tightly clenched.

 

Knowing what she’d done to them, to their son, both his mother and father knew they could not argue against that. 

 

Nor could they argue that their borders could possibly be weaker now, and where there was weakness, there was the possibility of invasion and war. The Berkians lost their home once already, traveled long, hard and far, and now they’d settled their roots in these mountains by the sea. The Berkians found a home again, one they were not willing to lose. The borders needed to be protected and secure. Thus, in the end, they let him go.

 

They let him go with reluctance and fear that their son may not come back, but they said their temporal farewells with smiles.

 

He left that evening on Toothless’s back and drank in the sliver of freedom he hadn’t felt in months.

 

He could pretend that the moon beaming down at him was the sun and he bared his face to the wind, breathing in the crisp air of oncoming fall, the warmth blowing gently on his skin from the south, and the sensation of Toothless’s wings beating beneath his legs. He could pretend that they were leaping off of the edge of a mountain and streaking into the sunlight. He could imagine that the beams of the moon on the treetops below them were the sun’s rays shimmering against the surface of the ocean.

 

He could pretend to feel the sun’s warmth.

 

He could pretend, but he couldn’t have the real thing.

 

Having packed enough clothing and salted meat to last him the better part of a week, he wasn’t worried about returning home quickly. If he needed more food, he would hunt when the sun was up, or he would let Toothless find fish for the both of them. When both dragon and rider were about to go to sleep, he would strap on the second prosthetic, the one Toothless hated so much, so that he could fly on his own. Then, he could fly beside the Night Fury, flying between peaks, through the clouds, kneading through the forests of lands they’d not seen before.

 

Toothless hated not being able to truly fly with him during the day.

 

He hated it, too.

 

It just.. wasn’t the same.

 

Gods, he wanted it back. He wanted to be able to fly on Toothless’s back in the sunlight again without fear, to feel the wind and sea breeze, thick with the smell of foam on his face. He wanted to hear Toothless’s happy croons and roars of excitement as they ducked between the tall cliffs and rocks that pierced through the surface of the sea. 

 

He just didn’t know _how_ to get it back.

 

Where did he even begin?

 

But he would be a fool to deny that there was a certain freedom in being able to fly completely on his own in the sunlight. A kind of freedom he didn’t have on Toothless’s back. It wasn’t the same and he wouldn’t trade being able to fly with Toothless as they once were able to for anything in the world, but... there was something he liked about flying on his own, too. To feel the wind underneath him, the sheer weightlessness of the air and the ground far below.

 

He just wished that it could be under different circumstances.

 

Toothless had still been asleep when the sun rose and he, unable to quench his curiosity and desire to see more of these lands to the south, his restless soul ready to burst forth after months of being cloistered within the valleys of Berk and the cover of darkness, lifted up into the sky and flew away from his best friend. 

 

Just for a little while. An hour or two at most.

 

That’d been his plan, to fly for a few hours, perhaps catch a few fish for Toothless as a retroactive apology for leaving him, come back to the black dragon, rest, and then fly with him throughout the day.

 

Now that Toothless couldn’t go flying with him as they once did at sunrise, the Night Fury had the tendency to sleep in most mornings. He didn’t like anyone else flying on his back, not even Astrid or his mother. He was a very picky, spoiled dragon, indeed.

 

He loved Toothless for it.

 

He could smell the autumn winds, the dying leaves and cooling waters of ponds and lakes. The sky was partly overcast; it was perfect for flying. He knew Toothless would sleep for an hour more, and he would be back in just under. He had nothing to worry about. He’d believed that he had it all under control, that nothing would happen. The worst already had.

 

They weren’t anyone of significant importance to him. They weren’t any of Berk’s horrible enemies, and they were not terrible, malignant folk who purposefully sought to strike him down. They were only rustic men and women who lived on the mountainsides he flew over. They weren’t evil. They were just regular people living their lives, defending their home.

 

They didn’t see a young man who’d never think to harm them, who didn’t even know they were there.

 

The only thing they saw was a monster flying across the skies.

 

And the monster was careless, swept up in his moment of freedom.

 

He’d forgotten that not everybody knew just how gentle and amazing dragons could be.

 

The people who lived on the mountains shot the monster down, and the monster barreled with a screech of fright and pain as the net tangled in his wings, his legs, his claws, around his entire body. The rope constricted against his scales and with his wings forced to his sides, he could no longer keep himself up in the air. He didn’t have Toothless to save him. He’d flown too far.

 

He fell.

 

Shrieking at the branches scratching his scales, he slammed into tree trunks and they snapped underneath him. Some dirt got stuck between his teeth as he slid against the ground and came to a stop before a pond. Wriggling and grumbling with pain and panic, the rope only tightened around him the more he moved. He kept trying to wrangle himself out of the net until the ropes were so tight around his neck that it was difficult to breathe.

 

A rumbling whine of pain rippled through the woods and, defeated, his eyes closed and waited.

 

For Toothless, for the gods to lead him back to safety, for some kind of miracle, or for death.

 

He could do nothing but wait and contemplate on his stupidity that led to this fate.

 

The Nornir loved to play the strings of fate and chance to their fancy and will, so deemed by the eventual passage of time and a history yet to be written. They were not cruel. They were not kind. They only were.

 

That day, the goddesses of fate took his thread and tied it with another’s.

 

Jack could have killed him so easily. He could’ve just seen a monster that’d been shot down with righteous cause, taken advantage of the ropes that kept him bound and defenseless, and then sheared his skin off for his entire village to see. He would’ve been proclaimed a heroic dragon killer, an honor to his village and his family. Fame and fortune would’ve come to him, and he would have had hundreds of admirers following his each and every step.

 

He had the knife in his hand. Just a simple twist and he would’ve been swallowed by the darkness without ever telling his parents _I’m sorry_ or Toothless _You’re gonna have to find a new rider, bud. Thank you._

 

The knife did not graze his scales, nor did it slice through vulnerable flesh.

 

Jack cut the ropes and let him go.

 

Jack looked him in the eye and didn’t see a monster.

 

Whether it was because of fate, a stroke of luck, good or bad, or only chance, he didn’t care. Whatever it was, he was grateful.

 

It brought him to Jack.

 

\---

 

A suffocating silence fell in the dragon stables.

 

Settling into a sitting position, Toothless glanced between his rider and the newcomer, blinking at the former and tilting his head at the latter in curiosity. It’d been a while since he last got such a close look at the young man who’d caught his rider’s attention so long ago.

 

Håkon was stuck between looking at the tips of his boots and Jack’s face, caught between elation at having the other male there, in his home, out of his own free will, and anxiety and shame. Heart pulsating behind his ribs, he raised a hand to scratch at his cheek and cleared his throat, staring at the other male from underneath his bangs. He waited for Jack to say something, anything. He just hoped for some kind of verbal response from him.

 

Jack, for his part, was too stunned to even formulate any form of retort. Words failed him, and the most he could do was simply stare at the prince while the words Håkon had just spoken gradually sunk in.

 

He had stubble, Jack noticed duly.

 

The smallest traces of stubble, granted, but there nevertheless. Strands of dark hair that trailed along the lines of his jaw, brushing his chin, the lines dark when Håkon’s mouth quirked upwards. It was an odd thing to notice. Jack only saw it because of the flicker of the lanterns on the walls.

 

Seeing as the prince could do little more than give him the weakest greeting he’d ever heard, there wasn’t much more for Jack to do but look at his face and part his mouth in disbelief at him.

 

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say, ‘ _hi?_ ’” He asked slowly.

 

Brown eyes began to narrow and his jaw set hard, clicking audibly shut.

 

Tension so thick that not even a knife could cut through it settled over the stables and a bit of panic fell in Håkon’s chest as he saw a gradual anger grow on Jack’s face. His nostrils were starting to flare, his brown eyes flashed brightly with fire, his mouth was in a firm line and the lines were starting to crease under the glare that’d formed on his face, and Håkon knew he had to backtrack to somehow put the other male at ease.

 

So, he tried for a bit of humor and gave the other male a small, crooked smile. 

 

His white teeth flashed in the light of the lanterns and Jack absently noticed that his front teeth were bigger than what he was used to seeing on most people.

 

Håkon scratched his cheek again, a nervous tick. “Uh, well,” He tried. “Isn’t that how most people introduce themselves to each other when they meet for the first time? Last I checked, that was a standard thing.”

 

He smiled, but it quickly fell at the angry flicker of Jack’s brown eyes.

 

“Maybe for people who’ve never met before and just now become acquaintances,” Jack snapped. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “But I’m pretty sure that’s not the typical thing to say to someone whom you’re getting _married_ to.”

 

The tips of Håkon’s ears turned a bright red and if Jack wasn’t so caught up in his own anger and irritation at the prince, he would’ve laughed and possibly found it a bit cute. And maybe his neck would’ve flushed a deep pink at saying such a thing so directly and out loud to his royal intended. 

 

Blushing to the point of his ears turning such a deep shade of red when Håkon was the one who proposed in the first place wasn’t very princely. At least as far as Jack imagined. How were princes even supposed to act? Surely, it wasn’t with stuttering, fidgeting feet and twitching hands.

 

But he was too angry to care.

 

“That’s--” Håkon started. Then, he paused. “...Okay, that’s--that’s fair.”

 

It was a small mumble and guilt flashed over the prince’s face (what little Jack could see of it, anyway, which only fanned his irritation with prince). Håkon looked at the floor.

 

He flinched when Jack scoffed derisively, and lifted his eyes to finally look at him. He tried not to flinch again at Jack’s stiff stance, his shoulders tense and his arms crossed against his chest. His brown eyes were practically _blazing_ and for a young man who loved winter and the snow so much, they were fiery, stubborn and unyielding. A flickering flame ignited into a bonfire.

 

Håkon would’ve smiled if that glare weren’t directed at him.

 

Jack turned his chin toward him and the prince bit his bottom lip as he struggled for something to say. He rubbed his fingers together and frowned down at them. His brows knit together in thought underneath the leather of his mask, struggling with himself before finally giving a sigh and lifting his face to meet Jack’s hard stare.

 

“..I know,” He started. “I know just one letter wasn’t enough. I should’ve been there to ask you myself, and I--”

 

His eyes closed and his cheeks were starting to flush, hot against the leather. He had to stop himself to take another breath, shuddering, before opening his eyes again. There was no hesitation in what he said next.

 

“I wanted to ask you in person, but I couldn’t. I really, truly wanted to. I’m sorry, Jack. I am.”

 

It wasn’t enough.

 

Håkon knew it wasn’t, and Jack certainly knew. 

 

Jack was not satisfied with that answer, no matter how sincere his stupidly green eyes were, carrying a plea that Jack was not willing to accept. How the corners of his eyes seemed to crinkle with regret, and the way he bit down on his bottom lip, ashamed and so very apologetic.

 

The apology was written all over Håkon’s masked face, but Jack wasn’t ready to accept it.

 

“If you really wanted to, you would have, and you didn’t,” He said coldly. “And you somehow expect me to trust that?”

 

Maybe if he weren’t so angry, upset, and possibly even a little bit hurt that Håkon apparently didn’t have the guts to propose to him himself and now had the gall to hide his face from him, he would’ve felt guilty for the stricken expression on the prince’s masked face, as if Jack had just slapped him. The mask he was wearing only raised Jack’s ire more and something twisted in his gut because even though Håkon was the one to propose and proclaimed having romantic feelings towards him (something that made his stomach feel light in a confusing way), the prince still wouldn’t show his face.

 

Hurt flashed through his green eyes and he pursed his lips tightly, stumbling a step back. 

 

Green eyes lowered to his boots and Håkon swallowed hard.

 

Sensing the tension, the anger from the other human, and the distress and pain coming from his rider, Toothless’s green eyes narrowed in the darkness. The muscles in the dragon’s back spasmed and tensed, and his lips twitched slightly, showing a hint of ivory teeth and barely holding back a snarl.

 

Toothless knew the depth of his rider’s affections for the other human. He’d known for a long time, but that didn’t mean he had to like the other human just yet. Not when his rider was so clearly pained and the other human so full of anger towards the prince. Toothless couldn’t trust him yet. No, he had to wait and see.

 

Jack saw a flash of red in the darkness out of the corner of his eye, but ignored it, instead choosing to focus on the masked prince before him. 

 

He didn’t see how the black dragon’s tail curled around the prince’s legs, the red prosthetic tail-fin brushing against his calves, creating a protective barrier around the prince.

 

Though he wasn’t able to bring himself to smile, Håkon gave Toothless’s neck an appreciative rub, still looking down at his boots. He closed his eyes, and, coming to a decision, took a deep breath, exhaled, and then lifted his eyes back to Jack.

 

Green met brown, and Håkon paused before he parted his mouth to speak.

 

“You have every right to be angry at me, you can be as angry at me as you want, it’s--it’s okay. That’s completely understandable, I’m. I’m not gonna make you not be angry at me, or tell you not to be.”

 

As much as it hurt.

 

Håkon took another slow, deep breath. “I’m not-- I’m not asking you to believe every word that I say right now, but I just want you to know that-- that letter I wrote? I know it’s only words on a page in the end, and it may not mean as much as it would to hear in person, but.. I meant what I wrote. Every single word of it.”

 

The last part of his speech lowered into a murmur, soft and quiet, and Jack felt his stomach flop as those green eyes bore into his, so stupidly green, warm and _sincere_ that Jack didn’t know what to think. 

 

Something niggled at the back of his mind and Jack felt a sense of familiarity at the sheer forest green staring at him, though it was buried deep and impenetrable. 

 

And then the prince just had to give him a ghost of a smile and Jack was at a loss at how to respond.

 

While he scrambled for something to say, he absorbed the prince’s words, unsure how to feel about them. And he took the time to just _look_ at him.

 

He wasn’t anything like how Jack had always imagined princes to look or act like.

 

When he would think of how a prince’s voice might sound, he imagined a deep baritone, soft, thrumming with a certain kind of charm and strength, physical and not. Not a nasally voice that was higher pitched than he expected and had a tendency to crack, maybe even croak when it rose to certain octaves. The prince was tall, but he was thin, lanky and slender, to the point Jack mused to himself that a particularly strong gust of wind could knock him over with relative ease.

 

Håkon did not fit the picture of the princes he would hear about in tales parents lured their children to sleep with and the lore of travelers singing their songs of distant lands. But, though he sounded as if he had a chronic cold that never quite went away, there was a warmth and tenderness to every word he said.

 

And with that warmth, there was also a familiarity, though this was the first time they’d met.

 

_That’s a lie_ , a little voice in the back of his mind whispered. _You_ ** _have_** _met before._

 

Jack closed his eyes and his hands curled into fists against his crossed arms.

 

A shuddering breath left him.

 

He remembered the rush of the water in his ears, the cold pricking his skin, swallowing him whole and filling up his lungs. He remembered how hard it was to open his eyes, the darkness of the water pulling him down and consuming him. He remembered the crack of the ice and the weightlessness of when it shattered beneath his feet. He remembered being so, so scared and the last bubbles of air floating to the sheet of ice above. He remembered the bright moon’s blurred form through the cold, frozen surface of the lake.

 

He remembered someone pulling him out of the water, a voice calling his name, and the texture of worn, leathery scales against his palm. He remembered a blanket being wrapped around his shoulders and a voice telling him to stay awake even though he was so tired and wanted nothing more than to just sleep. He remembered an unfamiliar rumble, and the wind against his cold, wet skin as wings beat in the air. He remembered the arms that kept him from falling off and the weight of a chest pressed against his back.

 

He remembered a voice that told him he was going home.

 

A voice that promised safety, so warm and so kind.

 

A voice whose owner Jack had wondered about for nearly a year.

 

A voice that belonged to the one person he never imagined it could be. After almost a year of wondering, walking through the woods with his sister, lingering by the pond he’d nearly drowned in, waiting for any sign of the voice’s owner, he’d almost given up on ever knowing who it was who saved him that cold winter night.

 

But the moment he’d heard the prince’s voice in the arena-- he knew.

 

He’d tried to convince himself that he was surely wrong, that it was just a trick of the ear, that this was the first time that he and the prince met, but when he heard Håkon’s laugh of triumph back in the arena, and hearing his voice then, without an entire crowd overpowering it... there was no mistake.

 

Jack’s heart thudded in his ribcage and leapt into his throat, and the words came out before he could stop himself.

 

“Was it you?”

 

Green eyes blinked widely and Håkon’s mouth fell into a confused line.

 

“Uh, pardon?”

 

Widened brown eyes bore into a befuddled green, and Jack heard his blood rushing in his ears, his heartbeat quickening. “It was you, wasn’t it?” He breathed.

 

Brows furrowed underneath the leather of Håkon’s mask. “Um, would you care to elaborate? I have no idea what you’re talking about--”

 

“Yes, you do!” Jack shouted, his voice echoing and bouncing off of the stable walls, making Håkon jump in alarm and Toothless’s ear fins to twitch harshly at the noise. “You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about!”

 

Håkon was only growing more and more confused, and the suddenly frantic expression on Jack’s face was unnerving. “Actually, no, I really don’t, so could you please explain to me--”

 

Gritting his teeth and growling deep in his throat, brought on by his own frustrations, Jack stalked forward. He took large steps towards the prince and narrowed his brown eyes at the other male.

 

“No, no, I’m asking the questions right now,” He said, glaring. “And you’re going to answer them.”

 

Green eyes widened when Jack got even closer to him and Håkon took a couple steps back, nearly stumbling over Toothless’s tail, which earned him a grunt of annoyance and indignation from the dragon when his heel pressed down against it. Flinching, he shot an apologetic look at the disgruntled dragon.

 

“ _Sorry, bud--_ If you’d just tell me what you’re talking about then I’d be happy to answer--”

 

Jack stepped over the black dragon’s tail, forgetting that he was even there as he approached the prince, his nostrils flaring. He kept walking forward until the prince had his back just a few inches away from the wall of the stables.

 

“Then how about you answer me this?” Jack bit out sarcastically.

 

The glare practically burned through the mask into Håkon’s skin and the prince swallowed hard. If it were under any other circumstances, he would’ve been perfectly happy with such close proximity between them, but as it was, he could only nod stiffly at the other male and answer any questions he had. 

 

As much as he could.

 

Leaning in closer, Jack raised a hand and pressed a pointed finger into the prince’s chest, jabbing it and earning an indignant ‘ow!’ and an incredulous look.

 

“I’d recognize that nasally voice anywhere,” Jack hissed. “Like you have a permanent cold. Did you really think I wouldn’t catch onto it?”

 

“Oh, we’re starting with insults, I see,” the prince drawled out, his mouth falling into a firm frown and his green eyes half-lidded with deep set sarcasm. “Make fun of a guy who can’t help the way his voice sounds, yeah, that’s the way we go about bonding-- _Ow!_ ”

 

Jabbing a bit harder into Håkon’s chest, Jack locked his jaw and gave the prince a hard look, shutting him up in an instant.

 

“That night at the pond,” He started, narrowing his eyes at the prince, searching what little of his face he could see. “That night I--I almost drowned, you were there, weren’t you?”

 

Green eyes widened underneath auburn bangs and the prince’s back went rigid.

 

Håkon didn’t say a word.

 

Licking at his bottom lip, Jack pressed his finger a bit harder into Håkon’s chest. “You were, weren’t you?” He whispered. “You were the one that pulled me out of the water and took me home, aren’t you?”

 

Green eyes flit to the floor and Jack felt his heart leaping into his throat, beating against his windpipe as he waited for an answer.

 

An answer from the prince himself.

 

There was only so much that he could gather about him from a damn piece of paper.

 

While he could now see the traces of the personality that were only echoed through the words inked onto the page, Jack hadn’t had a true sense of what Håkon was like as a person. Every time he tried to ask, to needle out any kind of information he could get, he would receive a vague, evasive answer in return. And Jack was tired of it.

 

He wanted something real, organic, substantial. He was so, so tired of Fishlegs, Astrid, and even the queen not giving him a direct answer about the prince, only telling him to see for himself what he was like. Well, he was there, now, and he was still waiting to see his true character.

 

He didn’t want some lofty treacle of information that revealed nothing about Håkon, not a crumb or a piece of lint, all full of empty air, and he didn’t want to hear another explanation from someone who would only give him the barest of pieces. He wanted an answer from the man himself. And now he was right in front of him. He **had** to know.

 

“You saved me that night, didn’t you?”

 

He waited.

 

Jack was unwavering when those green eyes finally lifted back up to him but goot lost in the deep color of summer green; a full forest swaying under the fresh summer winds. Being this close, Jack could see the freckles that dotted Håkon’s cheeks, along the curve of his neck, down past the hem of his shirt, decorating his collarbone. Bones that were distinct and visible with each breath the prince took.

 

The stubble along his jawline was more prominent, and he found freckles there, too. Jack idly wondered if they were all over the prince’s body, hidden underneath the fabric and the leather mask.

 

On his chin, he saw a faint scar. A sliver of white against his skin, and it made Jack blink. 

 

The light of the lanterns gave Håkon’s hair some red highlights.

 

Everything about him seemed so young and boyish, no matter how old he might’ve been.

 

He could practically feel the other male swallow underneath his finger. Håkon’s expression was infuriatingly hard to read, but when he finally spoke, Jack felt the skin on the back of his neck tingle.

 

“..Yeah, it was me,” He said, quietly.

 

Sucking in a sharp breath, Jack lowered a slightly shaking hand and took a step back. Brown eyes blown wide, Jack clutched the front of his cloak and swallowed.

 

Håkon didn’t move to follow him.

 

Toothless watched the two humans, his ear-fins flattening against his skull at the sheer silence and the tension between them. He gave a small rumble and curled his tail around Håkon’s legs once more.

 

The prince rubbed at the dragon’s side, but his gaze never wavered from Jack. The weight of his admission hung over them both as a heavy, tense silence filled the stables. But it was unavoidable; Håkon knew that he would have to tell him at some point, and Jack was far too smart to let the opportunity pass by him.

 

Flummoxed, Jack could only stare at the prince.

 

He now had one answer, something concrete and **real** from the prince himself, but having that one truth ignited a whole new set of questions.

 

“Why didn’t you _say_ anything?” Jack asked, voice cracking a little. “Why didn’t you just say so in the letter? You could have at least said _something_ about the fact that you were the one who saved my life!”

 

His ire was growing once more and his voice began to rise, echoing off the stone walls and wooden beams of the stables.

 

Håkon’s shoulders stiffened and his wide green eyes were locked on Jack, unblinking and unreadable. The prince’s jaw clenched and he pursed his lips, fingers pulling at the sides of his trousers, tips of his nails grazing against the warm fabric.

 

“I’ve been wondering for-- for nearly a **year** about who it was that saved me that night, and it was _you?_ A little bit of introduction when you brought me home would’ve been nice!”

 

Håkon, who couldn’t bring himself to say anything in response to that first set of questions and started looking down at his boots again out of slight shame, looked back up at Jack. His mouth tightened into a firm line and his jaw hardened. His green eyes were had a cool edge to them.

 

“Because I’m sure your mother would’ve been receptive to meeting a prince from a place that isn’t supposed to exist and a dragon right after her son almost drowned in a frozen pond,” He shot back.

 

The stiff tone of his response and the stubborn set of his jaw made Jack grind his teeth, and, his eyes narrowing, he stalked forward a few steps to properly glare at Håkon. The prince did not step back.

 

“Because just telling me and my mother who you were via letter and two strangers at our doorstep wasn’t shocking enough?” Jack bit out, the sarcasm dripping out like venom.

 

The tight expression on the prince’s face broke a little and his fingers fumbled with each other, while he mumbled, “Okay, so maybe it wasn’t one of my _best_ ideas, but--”

 

Jack didn’t let him finish. “You still didn’t answer my question! Why didn’t you say anything!?”

 

Håkon made a frustrated noise, “Do you really think your mother would’ve even let me _say_ anything the moment she saw the dragon!?” The prince’s hands flailed about and his eyes flashed in desperation. “You almost _drowned_! Knowing that her child almost died would’ve been shock enough; I doubt that the first thing your mom needed was to see a prince and his dragon on her doorstep!”

 

Jack’s mouth shut with a firm click and he took a shuddering breath, his jaw tightly clenched.

 

He hadn’t forgotten how his mother had reacted to seeing Stormfly and Meatlug just that morning. He remembered the look of fear on her face, her shouts for Jack to get away from them, though the pair of dragons were nothing if not harmless and playful. They’d never harm him, Emma, or his mother. He remembered the look on her face when the auburn dragon landed behind him; the look of utter terror and the flashing eyes of a dangerously protective mother.

 

Brown eyes glanced at the black dragon standing next to its rider, the tail curled around the prince’s legs in a protective barrier, the way its green eyes practically glowed likes eerie lanterns that led weary travelers home or to their demise, and how the dragon’s body melded into the darkness. A dragon whose name he didn’t know.

 

But, hadn’t Håkon called him ‘Toothless,’ earlier...?

 

During the race, Jack could barely see the dragon under the cover of night; its body could completely disappear into the inky darkness of the night and flew too fast for him to see. If the dragon was feeling aggressive or hostile, no one would be able to see it coming if it decided to attack at night, Jack was sure.

 

Jack knew that dragons wouldn’t harm any human unless threatened. His mother didn’t, not until that day.

 

Not even a young man who’d saved her son would’ve been able to come through the threshold of their home once she saw the dragon.

 

Jack couldn’t argue against that, but that didn’t mean he had to like it or stand down and be satisfied with that answer.

 

He swallowed. “You still could’ve left a note, or something. Just on my windowsill, or whatever,” He said quietly, eyes boring into Håkon’s. “You could’ve just, dropped by and said hello. _Something_.”

 

Håkon’s expression tightened and the prince bit down on his lower lip. Green eyes crinkled in guilt.

 

Jack almost didn’t hear him when the prince murmured, “Yeah.. I could’ve.”

 

He first looked at the floor, staring at the tips of his boots, then lifted his gaze to meet Jack’s eyes. Even with the leather mask obstructing the prince’s upper face, Jack could see the apology written in the curve of his mouth, the wrinkle of the corners of his eyes, and tight line of his jaw.

 

“I’m sorry,” Håkon whispered.

 

There was guilt in that apology, but he found an overbearing sadness in the prince’s eyes that took Jack aback. Tips of Håkon’s auburn-brown hair hung in front of his eyes, brushing against his eyelashes, and the strands heightened the shadows on his face. It gave the prince a hooded expression, tired and weary.

 

He looked haunted.

 

He studied Håkon’s face and concluded that there was something the prince wasn’t telling him; he didn’t elaborate on why he didn’t make the effort to initiate some contact with Jack, nor did he even try to defend himself beyond a pessimistic doubt at even being allowed to come through his mother’s doorway, but..

 

Jack wondered if the prince even _could_.

 

He wondered what held Håkon back.

 

What could have kept the prince away for an entire year while Jack had no idea who his savior was? Why wasn’t he putting in the effort to justify himself, to make himself look good in front of Jack? Why was he letting Jack talk to him like this?

 

Jack finally knew who pulled him out of the water that night, but that one answer made a ripple in the recesses of his mind and dozens of other inquiries murmured amongst themselves.

 

Gods.

 

He thought that finally meeting the prince would put an end to all of his wonders, but he could see there were only more questions to come.

 

...Well, he would have a lifetime of questions for Håkon, ones that he hoped would receive a concrete answer from the recipient. And he would have the rest of his life to ask him directly.

 

Jack blinked, ignored the creeping flush on the back of his neck and shoulders, and then cleared his throat. When the prince looked up at him again, Jack glanced to the side and scratched at the back of his head, palm lingering on the curve of his neck.

 

“Look, I’m--” He started. “I’m still finding this all rather hard to believe, honestly, and I’m still kind of angry at you, but..”

 

Håkon, who’d wilted at Jack’s admission that he was angry at him, blinked. Jack raised his eyes to meet Håkon’s just as the prince tilted his head in confusion, beckoning Jack to go on, and he absently thought it was almost cute.

 

Clearing his throat again, the corners of Jack’s eyes softened. “Thank you, by the way. For-For saving me that day. I’ve wanted to tell you that for nearly a year by now and if it weren’t for you, I,” He sucked in a breath and lowered his hand from his neck. “I probably wouldn’t be standing here right now. Thank you.”

 

Finishing with that little murmur, a ghost of a small smile curled on Jack’s lips, the flush on the back of his neck darkening and the tip of his nose turning a faint shade of pink.

 

Håkon’s eyes widened in surprise and the black dragon at the prince’s side visibly relaxed, the tension in its large, winged shoulders lessening and previously slit pupils returning to their larger size. 

 

The dragon gave a small rumble and glanced at his rider, who stared at Jack unblinkingly. His mouth was slightly parted, showing off his slightly too-big and somewhat crooked front teeth, and then he slowly blinked.

 

Lips curling upwards into a faint smile, Håkon ducked his head, gave a small laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well... you don’t need to thank me for that,” He said. His eyes lifted back up to meet Jack’s, the small but gentle smile spreading a bit further.

 

Jack’s stomach felt rather light and almost fluttery at the way Håkon’s green eyes seemed to crinkle behind his mask.

 

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna just let you drown and I can’t take all the credit, but.. You’re welcome.”

 

Even with his slightly overgrown teeth and the awkward, unsure curl of his lips, Håkon had a nice smile. A really nice smile. The upward curl of his mouth seemed to echo in his forest green eyes, making his expression brighter.

 

Jack liked it.

 

The black dragon looked between the two humans as the tension that’d settled in the stables diminished, the air feeling less choked and anxious. The dragon sat down on his hind legs and his ear-fins twitched as he cocked his head to the side, observing the pair and how they smiled at each other.

 

Neither of the two human occupants in the stables said a word and silence set in the stone and wooden walls, but it was an easy one. It was broken by a low chuff and the black dragon nudging his snout against Håkon’s chin.

 

Giving a startled squawk at the jostle, Håkon finally looked away from Jack and turned his attention to Toothless. The prince rolled his eyes, muttered something under his breath, and raised a hand to scratch at the dragon’s jawline. A low purring rumble of a noise filled the stables and the dragon’s tail swooshed back and forth, much like a needy cat.

 

The green eyes finally looking away from him and the low rumble of the black dragon shook Jack out of his stupor. They were just so _green_..

 

He watched the affectionate exchange between the exasperated but fond prince and the scratch-greedy dragon and felt an upward quirk of the corner of his mouth. Taking a small step forward, Jack tilted his head and grinned faintly at Håkon’s gentle batting of the black dragon’s nose nudging against his face.

 

“Eugh, c’mon bud, your breath still reeks--” The prince whined, but Jack heard a note of affectionate laughter in it and the black dragon chuffed in amusement.

 

His grin widened some.

 

“And, ah, who might this be?” He asked.

 

The black dragon trilled and turned his attention to the other human, his large, round head cocking in curiosity, and his ear-fins pointing upward in attention. He blinked his large emerald eyes at Jack, and Jack noticed that this dragon’s pupils weren’t quite so slit as the other dragons; it seemed to change depending on the dragon’s mood.

 

And considering how wide the dragon’s pupils were, Jack guessed (hoped) that meant that the dragon was in an amiable mood.

 

The prince stopped in his ministrations and looked at Jack, staring at him for a beat, as if he was studying him.

 

Jack just raised his eyebrows slightly, showing his curiosity towards the black dragon before him and folded his hands behind his back, his posture and body language far more relaxed than it’d been previously. There was still a distance between them, but the tension had lessened considerably and Jack didn’t seem to be quite so angry with him as he was before.

 

There were still many issues that needed to be worked out between them, unanswered questions and lingering frustrations and regrets, but they’d taken a large step forward. It was a beginning.

 

Håkon smiled.

 

“This,” He said, running his palm along the black dragon’s neck, “Is Toothless. My dragon, and my best friend.”

 

Toothless blinked, turned his head and cooed at his rider, nudging his snout against the prince’s forehead. 

 

Håkon’s mouth curled upwards into a smile and he laughed, though he had to stumble back a few steps when the black dragon grew more and more insistent with his desire to cuddle, nearly knocking the prince over with his eagerness to nuzzle Håkon’s hair.

 

Smothering a snort, Jack took another step closer. “‘Toothless,’ huh?” He asked. “That’s an... interesting name.”

 

Seriously, who was in charge of names there? And didn’t someone call Håkon ‘Hiccup’ earlier? What was with that?

 

Which name was he supposed to call the prince by?

 

Håkon didn’t seem too perturbed or put off by Jack’s little jab at his naming skills, or lack thereof. If anything, he just seemed amused, should the shrug of his shoulders and the wry grin on his lips be any indication.

 

“Could be worse. He could’ve been named ‘Barf’ or ‘Belch,’ for instance,” He said, voice dry.

 

Jack found himself holding back a laugh and that, in of itself, was quite startling.

 

But the prince _did_ have a fair point. He’d heard far more regrettable naming choices in the past several hours alone than ‘Toothless.’

 

Toothless’s tail continued to swoosh back and forth against the stone floor as Håkon scratched underneath his chin, and Jack bent his knees a little to get a closer look at the dragon, hands still folded against the small of his back. He narrowed his eyes a little as he peered at the black dragon; he really did have the most unique body shape for a dragon that he’d seen so far. Whereas the dragons he’d seen earlier resembled lizards, reptiles or avian creatures, this dragon reminded Jack of a mixture between a bat and a feline. 

 

Toothless had the mannerisms of a cat; his ears twitched rather like one, his tail’s movements appeared to mimic the emotions he was feeling, and the careful, slender movements of the dragon’s body reminded Jack of the house cats that would lounge in a patch of sunlight, perched atop a windowsill in the marketplace and the village center.

 

But where his twitches and quirks were catlike in nature, his body and color reminded Jack of bats; the round structure of his snout, the sharp curves of his wings, how he puffed out his chest when rumbling and talking to his rider, his wide eyes, and his ears.

 

What a terrifying sight he would make if he took an unsuspecting village by surprise.

 

“I guess I’ll have to give you that,” Jack said with thinly-veiled amusement. “Though I must admit to being curious as to _how_ he got that name.”

 

He was perturbed when two pairs of green eyes fell on him, one slowly blinking at him as a cat would, gauging whether or not it would allow a human to pet its fur, and the other pair wide, full of surprise.

 

Håkon blinked, glanced at the black dragon, and then a grin grew on his lips.

 

“I think I’ll just let him show you instead of me just telling you,” He said.

 

Jack’s brows furrowed and his lips pursed together. After Håkon pat at the dragon’s neck before taking a step back, Jack turned his stare onto Toothless as the dragon slunk forward. 

 

Even the way the dragon moved was cat-like; his back, little ridges forming a line along the dragon’s spine, curved and rolled with almost every movement, and he gave a rumble deep in his chest as he approached.

 

Back stiffening, Jack stood up straight and held his breath as the dragon loomed closer. The dragon was certainly smaller than many he saw earlier, but he was still large in comparison to an eighteen year-old human boy. Swallowing, he grasped the sides of his pants, fisting them into the fabric and met the dragon’s eyes.

 

He spared a glance at the prince and found Håkon standing only a few feet away, hands on his hips (just as thin and lanky looking as the rest of him), still grinning.

 

Green eyes met his and Jack caught a hint of a playful twinkle in them, then followed their stare returning to the black dragon, Håkon giving a little nudge of his chin towards Toothless.

 

Bewildered but choosing to play along, he looked back at the black dragon, only for his eyes to widen and his feet to jolt a step or two back, a little startled noise escaping him.

 

The black dragon’s green eyes crinkled a little, the corners of his mouth quirking further upwards as he showed off his gummy smile. Toothless chuffed quietly with laughter at the wide-eyed expression on the human’s face.

 

“That,” Jack said, practically squeaking, “That would explain it.”

 

Håkon hid a snort behind his hand, smiling against his fingers.

 

Jack was reminded of the way the auburn dragon’s lips would curl, showing a toothy smile, his fangs sharp and glinting in the sunlight, but the upward turn was so kind and friendly that he could forget how deadly such sharp teeth could be. He was reminded of how warm the auburn dragon’s smile was in its draconic imitation of a human smile.

 

Toothless’s smile wasn’t the same; it was wobbly, awkward and unused to the movement, but it was so sincere Jack’s lips couldn’t help but twitch.

 

What with the lack of teeth, the dragon’s name made a lot more sense.

 

..He had no teeth.

 

The horror sunk in quickly.

 

“Wait, wait,” Jack breathed, his smile dropping in an instant as his brown eyes slowly widened in shock.

 

Toothless blinked, closed his mouth and tilted his head at him with a confused croon.

 

Håkon’s brow furrowed behind his mask.

 

Jack was stuck between horror and anger at the prince and shot him a fierce glare, taking the prince by surprise, Håkon’s shoulders jerking upwards as if he’d been hit. Confusion swam in his green eyes.

 

“ _Why does he not have teeth_ ,” Jack asked with mild hysteria.

 

He was aghast when the prince blinked at him slowly and then burst out laughing.

 

His laugh seemed to ripple through his entire body, like the ripples on the surface of water when a finger traced against it. Håkon held his stomach as he laughed, and his shoulders shook with each breath. Every part of his body seemed to move as he talked, spoke, made any kind of noise; Jack noticed it earlier, but now that the prince was laughing, it was far more obvious.

 

Though he wasn’t sure _why_ the prince was laughing in the first place and gave him a glare of disbelief and anger that had Håkon sobering within seconds.

 

Smothering the amused grin so that Jack would hopefully stop glaring at him like that, Håkon cleared his throat and spoke to the black dragon, “Go ahead and show him, bud.”  


Narrowing his eyes at the barely-held back amusement in Håkon’s eyes, Jack slowly turned back to the black dragon. His chest clenched at the gummy smile, wondering who could be so cruel as to pluck out a dragon’s teeth, who could’ve removed them all like that without getting killed? Was it the prince? But **how** could it have been? 

 

They seemed to be such good friends and Jack could see that; even after only having just met Håkon, Jack had a hard time believing that he would ever do something so vile and vicious to the dragon. He’d only seen them together for a brief time thus far, but even _he_ could see the depth of their bond, the deep care they had for each other, though how far that went, Jack had yet to understand.

 

His conclusion turned out to be the correct one when two sharp rows of ivory teeth sprung out of the dragon’s pink gums.

 

Toothless’s eyes narrowed in amusement when Jack gave a sharp inhale and gaped at his mouth, jumping back.

 

Håkon smiled wryly at Jack’s silence and Toothless’s devious enjoyment at the other human’s shock. He walked over and gave the slightest flick to one of Toothless’s spine ridges, earning a disgruntled look and grunt from said dragon, and breaking Jack out of his shocked stupor.

 

“Did.. Did his teeth just--”

 

“Yeah,” Håkon grinned as he scratched the dragon’s side. “His teeth retract whenever he wants them to. Took me by surprise myself; I thought he didn’t have teeth at all when we first met.”

 

Mouth sheepishly curling upwards, he scratched at the part of his cheek that wasn’t covered by the leather mask. “Hence the name, I guess. It just kinda.. stuck.”

 

Pulling his head back to look at the prince, Toothless warbled at him and gave a bob of his head in affirmation, the tip of his tail twitching.

 

Jack wondered what the story was behind Toothless and Håkon’s meeting, and when Jack saw the red prosthetic fin flash in the candlelight, his curiosity only grew. But whether he was ready to ask what that story was, he wasn’t sure.

 

They’d only just met properly for the first time, after all, and Jack still wasn’t sure what he thought about the prince. It was too soon for him to know.

 

There was an urge to reach out his hand and rub against Toothless’s snout and his arm began to extend outwards, but he pulled it back.

 

This wasn’t the auburn dragon who accepted his touch without him having to ask, whose green eyes reminded Jack of the sunlight dancing off of summer leaves in the woods, but a dragon who was most certainly not his and did not know him. He couldn’t be sure that Toothless would accept his touch as easily as the auburn dragon did; the black dragon was friendly enough around the prince but he hadn’t initiated contact with Jack and seemed to regard him with a curious trepidation. 

 

Toothless was also _Håkon’s_ dragon, and he wasn’t sure what to think about that.

 

Instead, he gave a faint grin and tilted his head at the black dragon, blinking when Toothless mimicked him.

 

“I’m gonna guess that you’re the other half of the pair that saved me from drowning that night?” He asked.

 

Toothless blinked and crooned lowly, lowering his head in an imitation of a nod.

 

Jack grinned.

 

“It’s a little belated for me to say-- a year late, really, but,” Jack’s grin softened. “Thank you, Toothless.”

 

The black dragon purred low and deep in his chest, and Jack was taken by surprise when Toothless took several heavy, long steps forward to gently nudge his snout against Jack’s chest, causing him to nearly stumble as he went back a few steps.

 

Astonished brown eyes blinked down at Toothless and the dragon gave him a toothy smile in return, trilling at him. It was a noise he recognized. 

 

Though Toothless’s voice was unique to him, it was a sound he’d heard many a time from the auburn dragon.

 

He was saying _you’re welcome_.

 

Jack’s eyes crinkled as his smile widened and, taking the dragon’s closeness as an invitation, he raised and pressed his palm against Toothless’s nose, giving it a small pat and a rub to truly show his gratitude to the dragon.

 

The familiar texture brought him back to that night, when he woke up in darkness to hard, smooth scales, leathery and thick, the warmth beneath them, and a nasally voice promising safety.

 

It brought him back to that sensation of security, of being protected, of being brought home.

 

Toothless preened under his touch and purred loudly while Jack turned his attention back to a rather quiet prince, Jack slowly turning his head to look to the side. At the look on the prince’s face, his breath hitched and his rubbing came to a brief stop.

 

Håkon’s hands were folded behind his back, fingers laced together and rubbing at his knuckles. The smile on his face was soft and warm, making his green eyes crinkle underneath the leather as he watched Jack and Toothless greet one another properly.

 

The prince’s eyes were so tender, warm and full of _feeling_ that Jack felt the wind being knocked out of him.

 

The back of his neck felt hot and, feeling rather self-conscious, he looked away and cleared his throat, lowering his hand from Toothless’s snout.

 

Håkon realized that he’d been caught staring at them and felt a rush of both embarrassment and fear, quickly looking away. He rubbed the back of his neck and his now warm cheeks stuck to the leather latching onto his skin.

 

Toothless pulled his head back and looked between the two humans, tilting his head in confusion when he smelled the rising, awkward tension and silence between the pair.

 

Jack’s hands clenched and unclenched, playing with the fabric of his cloak as he bit on his bottom lip while figuring out what to say to Håkon. At least he now had some answers, especially pertaining to who saved him that night a year ago, who the black dragon was, and a sliver of the prince’s personality. 

 

He now knew what the prince looked like, and even though Håkon wasn’t quite what he imagined, he found that the traces of the prince he’d seen in the letter, tucked away in his bag, were present in the prince standing before him.

 

But it was only a shade of Håkon, a bare hint of his true character.

 

Until Jack knew who Håkon really was, he wouldn’t be able to decipher what he felt about him.

 

The fact that Håkon still hadn’t taken off his mask, much to Jack’s confused frustration, did nothing to help sort out Jack’s dubious and uncertain thoughts towards him.

 

Jack recalled what the king had called the prince earlier, the name Snotlout shouted at him when he stole the sheep from the other rider, just as bizarre as so many other naming choices he’d heard and seen since coming to Berk.

 

His curiosity wouldn’t be sated until he asked. So, he did.

 

“Your--Your father,” Jack started, drawing Håkon’s attention back to him. Once he saw the pair of green eyes, hooded by his bangs and the leather mask, he continued. “And.. that, Snotlout guy, they both called you ‘Hiccup.’”

 

Jack’s brow furrowed.

 

“Last I checked, your name was Håkon.”

 

Unless that was another thing being hidden from him, Jack considered with a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

Håkon wasn’t blind to the change in the air around the other male and he held back a flinch, instead choosing to give him a wry smile. “It _is_ my name, my birth name anyway. And my, uh, ‘official’ name, I guess you could say.” He shrugged, the movement rippling through his entire body. “‘Hiccup’ is just my nickname; I’ve been called it ever since I was a kid. Everyone’s called me that over my birth name. It’s just kinda stuck.”

 

Jack raised his eyebrow. “You Berkians sure have a talent with naming,” he said dryly, watching Håkon’s reaction carefully.

 

The prince snorted, a laugh on the tip of his tongue.

 

“Trust me, it’s not the worst,” Håkon smiled. 

 

Humor glinted in his green eyes and the tension in Jack’s shoulders eased.

 

“There’s this old belief that ugly names will fend off gnomes, trolls and evil spirits. Granted, we have our birth names, like mine, but then we have our nicknames that we go by on a day to day basis.”

 

Well, now it made a little more sense. It would certainly explain the oddities of names like ‘Fishlegs’ and ‘Snotlout,’ which weren’t exactly pleasant to the ear, but Jack wouldn’t call a name like ‘Hiccup’ ugly. No, it wasn’t ugly.

 

It sounded.. small. Stumbling, weak, a little silly and so very young.

 

To be able to train and ride a dragon was certainly not a weakness in Jack’s mind, but the youthfulness and the smallness of it was a fitting name for the prince.

 

“So... which should I call you?” Jack asked.

 

Håkon gave a wry grin. “You can just call me ‘Hiccup,’ if you want. Whatever you decide to call me by, I won’t mind.”

 

Jack hummed and gave a short nod, unsure what to call the prince himself. 

 

Håkon sounded so... formal and intimidating, which didn’t fit the prince at all, but to call him ‘Hiccup’ felt too informal. Maybe that would change in time once he got to know him, but Jack couldn’t say. But if ‘Hiccup’ was how everyone referred to him and what he was most comfortable with, well, Jack supposed he should familiarize himself with the name.

 

“..I guess I’ll just have to give into peer pressure, follow the crowd and call you ‘Hiccup,’” Jack said finally, sarcasm trickling into his consonants, though not unkindly.

 

Instead of making the prince bristle from the lack of respect in his tone and the dryness of his words, his wry grin only widened. 

 

“That’s fine by me,” Håk-- no, _Hiccup_ said, his voice soft and quiet.

 

Something glinted in his green eyes that had the tip of Jack’s nose turning pink.

 

He remembered the prince’s words in his letter; ‘ _you have captured my heart and my soul_.’

 

The skin on his neck flushed and Jack looked away, his stomach slowly twisting in his gut.

 

When Jack averted his eyes, he missed the way Hiccup’s smile fell into a frown at Jack looking away and the silence once again falling over the stables. The base of the prince’s throat felt tight, constricted, and he breathed through his nose, eyes falling shut.

 

Now finished with being pampered to his satisfaction by the new human, Toothless’s eyes flickered back to his rider and he gave a soft, concerned croon while he walked back to Hiccup’s side. Hiccup’s thumb rubbed circles in the dragon’s leathery skin and he gave Toothless a faint, somewhat forced smile.

 

Several long, held beats passed before Jack cleared his throat once more, looking at the prince. His eyes fell on the leather mask and he felt his mouth sag into a small frown.

 

Hiccup’s face didn’t reveal much of what he was feeling, aided by the dark brown leather that covered the upper part of his face.

 

“Well,” Jack started, his voice steady as he met green eyes, “Now that we’ve been properly introduced to each other, maybe you could take off the mask and let me see your face properly now?”

 

Jack was careful to not make it sound like a command, but more like a somewhat hesitant request, a rather small smile twitching on his lips. Jack couldn’t deny his sense of curiosity about the prince’s face; it was hidden behind a mask, therefore it was bound to leave Jack with a desire to know what Hiccup’s face looked like underneath the material. They were going to be spending the rest of their lives together, weren’t they? Hiccup would have to take the mask off at some point, so why not now?

 

He was angry at the prince earlier for not telling him who he was or that he was the one who saved him that night, but now that Jack finally knew, had met Toothless and gotten to talk to the prince, his irritation with him had cooled significantly. He was still unsure how to act around him, but the more they talked, the easier it became.

 

Hiccup had a sense of humor, dry and sarcastic as it was, and he was being a rather good sport about Jack being angry at him, accepting his mistakes and even being a bit self-deprecating about them. It was only a modicum of his personality, Jack was positive, but it was a step forward.

 

Getting to see Hiccup’s face would be another.

 

But a sinking feeling formed in his gut when green eyes widened at his request and the prince’s shoulders went rigid and tense. Hiccup didn’t him right away nor made any move to take off the mask.

 

He looked petrified.

 

Hiccup sucked in a breath and felt the tension in his muscles tighten and constrict, his heartbeat elevating and his jaw locking. He gripped at his trousers and heard Toothless give a low trill of concern and comfort.

 

He closed his eyes and held back a sigh; he knew Jack would ask. And he’d dreaded it.

 

Green eyes opened and met cautious brown.

 

Hiccup’s voice was so quiet that Jack had to strain his ears in order to hear the words coming out of his mouth.

 

“I can’t.”

 

There was a beat of silence and Hiccup looked so remorseful and sad as he said them that Jack was at a loss at what to say or think. He could only stare at the other male, bewildered and speechless.

 

The irritation at Hiccup’s apparent, active willingness to hide things from him when they were supposed to get _married_ at some point flickered back to life, melding with confusion, suspicion and the trickles of hurt.

 

“You ‘can’t’?” He asked quietly.

 

Hiccup hid a flinch at the tremor of anger he heard in the soft simmer of Jack’s voice.

 

“No, I can’t,” He said again, and readied himself for the displeased outburst from the other male. 

 

He knew this would happen eventually. Jack was not someone who would just let this pass him by; he was curious, always eager for knowledge and play, and above all, stubborn and determined. Of course Jack would want to know why he couldn’t see his face properly. Hiccup _knew_ that.

 

But he wasn’t prepared for it.

 

Much as he imagined the theoretical scenarios of Jack’s inevitable curiosity about his face, no analytical thought could’ve prepared him for the reality of it.

 

“And why, exactly, can you not show your face to me?” Jack’s eyes narrowed as his voice slowly grew in volume.

 

Resisting the urge to wince, Hiccup locked his jaw and shook his head, knowing that his next answer was only going to anger the other male further. 

 

“Please,” he pleaded, and Jack was taken aback by the sheer sadness in the prince’s voice. It even cracked a little as he said, “Please don’t ask me that. I just can’t.”

 

Jack’s resolve only wavered a little at how quiet the prince’s tone was, the plea in it, and the crinkle of sadness in the corner of his green eyes. But the light of the lanterns dancing along the brown leather only ignited his stubborn determination again, and his eyes narrowed in a glare, his hand clenched into a fist underneath his cloak.

 

“That’s not an answer,” Jack said, biting it out between grit teeth, his voice starting to rise.

 

Hiccup pursed his lips and some of his own frustrations poured into his tone as he responded, firm and steady, “It’s the only answer I _can_ give right now.”

 

“That’s such a baseless excuse and you know it,” Jack hissed.

 

Green eyes flashed underneath the firelight and Hiccup’s nostrils flared. “It’s not an excuse! As much as I would like to take this mask off right here and now, _I can’t_!”

 

Jack’s jaw clenched shut with an audible click and Toothless, crooning softly, curled his tail around the prince’s legs again, creating a barrier between the pair, and Jack stared hard at the prince’s obscured face.

 

Jack swallowed and his eyebrows were furrowed, the ferocity of his glare lessening at the sincere frustration in Hiccup’s voice, but he was still holding firm.

 

“Do you mean that?”

 

Hiccup made an aggravated noise deep in his throat and ran his hands through his shaggy, auburn-brown locks of hair, and once again Jack couldn’t help but notice how the movement seemed to ripple through his entire body as a tap of the surface of a pond.

 

“Yes! Of course I mean that! Unless you’re some kind of masked vigilante or whatever I’m sure most people don’t enjoy having to wear a mask all the time,” He said, a certain bite in his tone that sounded rather bitter to the taste.

 

Jack didn’t miss the implication; he **had** to wear it. 

 

For whatever reason, Hiccup felt as if he had to hide his face from him.

 

But _why_?

 

It made his jaw lock tight and his brow furrow, a dozen more questions firing in his mind.

 

“Then why can’t you just take it off?”

 

Hiccup’s mouth fell into a hard line and at the hard stare he received from Jack, his brows creased underneath the leather and his eyes fell down to his boots. He closed his eyes and took a slow breath. He glanced at Jack from underneath his bangs; his eyes were tired, weary, and apologetic.

 

He gave a sad smile and murmured, “I can’t. For the time being, I just can’t. I can’t take it off, and I can’t tell you why. Not right now.”

 

Jack stared at the prince for a long-held beat, the tension gradually dissipating from his face as he drank in the tight lines around Hiccup’s mouth, the tired sag of his eyes and the sad line of his lips. The soft murmur full of a contained emotion that spoke of so many things that Hiccup wanted to say but apparently couldn’t.

 

For someone who could smile and laugh with such life as he did earlier, he looked far too worn and trodden for a young man of his age. For a prince, he looked defeated.

 

Jack thought of the too-big teeth Hiccup showed when he smiled only minutes ago and felt the residual anger melt away into resigned disappointment and acceptance.

 

Closing his eyes, Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay.”

 

Green eyes looked up at him cautiously, shadowed by the mask and his messy auburn bangs, looking so full of hesitance that Jack wondered what happened to the confidence the prince had shown during the race only an hour before.

 

Hiccup narrowed and crinkled his eyes in confusion and cocked his head to the side, his palm instinctually settling on top of Toothless’s snout when the dragon nudged his head underneath his arm. His elbow rested atop Toothless’s head and he stood up straight.

 

“..Okay?”

 

Jack shrugged and crossed his arms, glancing aimlessly to the side. “I’m not happy with it--” He noticed Hiccup flinching, looking even more defeated, and felt his anger deflate further, “But, clearly, you’ve got to have some kind of important reason behind not being able to take off your mask or tell me why you can’t take it off, otherwise you would’ve already, right?”

 

Some of his more dubious feelings towards the prince faded away when Hiccup stood up straight and gave a firm nod, his mouth in a serious line.

 

Jack glanced at him and met his eyes. He wasn’t smiling. “Do you plan on telling me at some point?”

 

Hiccup’s shoulders were stiff, but he nodded again. “Yes.”

 

A pause.

 

Then, quietly.

 

“Will you let me see your face whenever you’re ready for me to?”

 

Hiccup’s green eyes widened and then the wrinkles around them softened. A faint ghost of a smile curled on his lips, sad but warm, and he gave a final nod.

 

“Yes,” He murmured, “I will.”

 

A mirror of that small smile was sent back to the prince.

 

“Then... okay.”

 

They smiled at each other, and the silence was not stifling, nor was it overwhelming as it was before.

 

Toothless’s stiff muscles relaxed and he lowered himself down to the ground in a sitting position as he looked between the two humans, smelling the lightness in the air between them, the ease of the tension. The black dragon purred low, deep in his chest, and nuzzled against his rider’s side, his mouth curling upwards in a pleased draconic smile.

 

Jack caught himself lingering on Hiccup’s warm green eyes and with a clearing of his throat, broke their held gaze and hid the light flush on his cheeks with a faint, cheeky grin. Pointing finger towards a bewildered prince, he spoke again.

 

“And I’m going to hold you to that, all right?” He said firmly, a flicker of familiar humor glinting in his brown eyes. “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

 

His words were hinted with teasing and humor, but they were also sincere in their meaning. Jack hoped that he didn’t have to wait much longer just to see Hiccup’s face, though given that he’d agreed to spend the rest of his life with him... well, only time would tell how long he would have to wait for.

 

Hiccup snorted softly through his nose and rubbed the back of his neck, the crooked smile curling on his mouth.

 

“Don’t worry,” He said. “I’ll try not to.”

 

Placing his hands on his hips, Jack made a satisfied noise and closed his eyes. “Good.”

 

Hiccup’s smile widened, and when Jack opened his eyes again to return it with one of his own, he was struck by just how tender it was.

 

He once again remembered the words the prince had written in his letter of proposal and felt the flush form on the back of his neck once more. His stomach fluttered beneath his ribcage and he scrambled for something else to say, to perhaps ask why, why **him** of all people, what was it about himself that drew in Hiccup’s attention enough to _propose_ to him--

 

When he felt a rumble beneath his skin and a loud growl coming from his stomach permeated through the stables.

 

Wide-eyed, Hiccup blinked owlishly and Jack felt the tip of his nose turn a bright shade of red.

 

The corners of the prince’s mouth curled into a faint little grin. Toothless’s ear-fins twitched and stood up at the sound of a hungry whine for food, and Hiccup smothered a laugh behind a clenched hand, disguising it with a small cough.

 

Jack felt like throwing something at the prince’s amused, smiling face out of sheer embarrassment.

 

Not that the prince himself hadn’t proven himself to be rather awkward and a little stiff around him, though not as much as he’d been when Jack first stepped into the stables, but still! For all of Jack’s uncertainties about him, making a good impression on the person you were to be married to was important, wasn’t it?  


Perhaps getting a bit hostile with Hiccup and essentially interrogating him while infringing on the prince’s personal space might not have been a great first impression..

 

“You, ah, hungry?” Hiccup asked, trying not to grin.

 

Flustered, Jack could only mumble something under his breath, then give a shrug of his shoulders and a mutter of, “Maybe.”

 

In an attempt to not embarrass the other male any further, Hiccup swallowed any laugh he might’ve been about to give and, giving a final pat to Toothless’s side, took the bucket he’d been using to wash the paint off of the dragon’s body and dumped it out on the floor. 

 

Toothless sniffed at the dirtied water and Jack raised his eyebrow at the prince, who only smiled at him.

 

“If you’re hungry, then I guess we’ll just have to go and get you something to eat,” Hiccup said while he put the bucket aside and grabbed a cloak that was hanging on a hook. It was a dark brown leather color, red at the hems and seams, fitting loosely over the prince’s thin shoulders.

 

Toothless wriggled and shook off the last drops of water on his scales and, rumbling deep in his chest, began to walk alongside Hiccup. Two pairs of green eyes looked at Jack, the prince looking over his shoulder to wordlessly beckon the other male to follow him, his smile smaller, hesitant, but hopeful.

 

Satisfied that the prince wasn’t going to make fun of him and suddenly relieved that Hiccup wasn’t going to up and leave him to his own devices, at least not yet, his shoulders relaxed and Jack took a step forward to follow them.

 

Then, remembering that this was only his first day in Berk and recalling the race that was held in his honor just under an hour before, he suddenly stopped.

 

Hiccup glanced over his shoulder, in sync with the black dragon, when he didn’t hear the sound of footsteps following him anymore. He furrowed his brows at the wide-eyed, half-petrified expression on Jack’s face.

 

“Are-- Are you okay?” He asked in concern.

 

“The race,” Jack blurted, “They’re-- The king and queen-- They’re not... gonna do something like _that_ for dinner, too, are they?”

 

A strange noise escaped Hiccup, something like a strangled mix between a laugh and an exaggerated groan of embarrassment, deep in his throat, and he shook his head, a sheepish smile twitching on his lips.

 

“Oh, no, no. It’s not going to be anything like... uh,” The tips of his ears turned red. “That.”

 

Hiccup rubbed at the back of his head. “I was just planning on sneaking you into the kitchen and getting you something to eat there. Unless you wanna do something big like that for dinner.” He shrugged casually and Jack nearly blanched.

 

“No, _no_ , I’m-- Trust me, I’m good on the whole ‘big celebration’ uh.. front,” He said, voice trailing off into a mumble at the end.

 

Jack looked up and saw the smile on Hiccup’s lips widening, finding humor and light teasing in it and in his green eyes.

 

“Good, because I might’ve put my foot down on any other big spectacles today.” Hiccup’s smile stretched into a grin and he waited for Jack to slowly walk towards him until they were lined up next to each other. 

 

After giving a sigh of relief, Jack caught up with the prince and the black dragon, thankful that the other male appeared to have a similar aversion to big events thrown in his name (though, to be fair, Hiccup probably had to deal with it far more often than Jack had, as this was Jack’s first exposure to having that much attention on him). Once Jack was by his side, the prince’s smile was warm and Jack found his lips twitching upward.

 

Things weren’t completely all right between them. There were still so many unanswered questions that Jack had, and now that he knew Hiccup couldn’t show his face to him, there was an underlying tension between them that was unmistakable and palpable. There were still things that Jack was confused and irritated over, but that was just the start. They’d only really gotten to meet and talk to each other face to face for the first time. The first time of many, he was sure.

 

But though the time they’d had with each other so far had been relatively short, there were things about Hiccup that Jack found himself liking. It was only a trace of the prince’s personality, but it was enough for Jack to know that the other male wasn’t a terrible person.

 

Maybe he **could** trust him to take care of his family as he’d promised in the letter, and maybe.. well. It was too early to say for sure, but Jack supposed life with him wouldn’t be that terrible.

 

They still had much to talk about, but they would get around to all of that in time. They had a whole life left, and Hiccup promised that he would eventually explain certain things to him. Jack was going to hold Hiccup to those promises, as well as the vows the prince made about his family.

 

As the prince led him out of the stables and out into the brisk, cold night of Berk, Jack looked up, saw the stars scattered across the dark ink of the sky, and wondered how his mother and sister were. He wondered if they’d eaten dinner already, if his mother had tucked Emma into bed yet. He wondered if the time of day was different back in Burgess than it was in Berk, and if they were looking at the same sky he was.

 

He wondered what his father would’ve thought about Hiccup, his proposal, Jack’s acceptance, and Berk itself.

 

And Jack wondered what could’ve been so impertinent and serious enough for Hiccup to obscure his face, to hide it from him for however long it was necessary. He wondered if it was some kind of illness, some kind of condition that left Hiccup feeling ashamed to show his face, and a small tight feeling formed in his chest.

 

Until Hiccup was ready to show his face and tell him why he had to hide it, he could only wonder.

 

The walk back to the royal family’s house was not a long one, and Jack grinned when the prince showed him the backdoor entrance to the manor that led right into the kitchens. Jack scrunched his nose at the sight and smell of salted fish, to which Hiccup could only shrug, smile faintly, and quip to Jack that he would be eating a _lot_ of fish, though he would try to see if he could change it up a bit every now and then with some food that came from somewhere besides the sea. 

 

Though Jack wasn’t keen on fish, he felt that he didn’t have much of a right to complain about the choice of food and ate the fish, bread, and fruits that Hiccup presented to him; modest, nothing too extravagant. 

 

All made the surreality of his current situation feel _normal_ to Jack.

 

But as he ate and during moments of silence between Hiccup and Jack, asking the prince more about Toothless, his species, and the dragons on Berk, Jack noticed something else about the prince who was sitting on the other side of the table from him, only picking at his food as they talked;

 

Hiccup hadn’t touched him, not once.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after a month long gestation period, between editing, writing, working, working on a few other projects and life in general getting in the way, we finally have the chapter we've aaaaaall been waiting for!
> 
> enjoy, guys ;)
> 
> we've still got a long way to go with these two idiots.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an eventful first night in Berk, Jack takes some time to become more accustomed to Berk, and gradually becomes introduced to its people and its legends.

 

Dinner was a slightly awkward, tense affair at first, and with the Night Fury curled up around the table, his large, winged body wrapped around its legs, the masked prince and a newcomer completely out of his depth, it made quite the bewildering sight.

 

Jack didn’t know how Toothless managed to move about the kitchen without knocking everything over, but the black-scaled dragon kept his wings folded against his sides and he kept himself low to the ground as Hiccup rummaged about, grabbing plates, utensils and food for Jack to eat.

 

After his debacle of a greeting earlier, Hiccup initiated some small talk by asking Jack how the ride had been for him, if it’d been too long, if he was tired, if it was smooth. The prince drummed his fingers lightly against the wooden surface and looked at Jack from underneath his bangs, curiosity brimming through deep, forest green.

 

Jack stared at him for a beat, holding a fork close to his mouth, lips closed into an unreadable line that had Hiccup drumming his fingers with a bit more nervousness. Then, he gave a small smile, took a bite, and told him that the ride was perfectly fine, if a bit long.

 

The prince’s rigid shoulders relaxed and a small smile began to curl on his lips.

 

A low croon of a purr rumbled from the ground and Toothless moved to place his large head into Hiccup’s lap. The movement made the table jolt, the dinner settings rattling on its flat surface, and the prince yelped at the sharp noise while Jack sat up, back straight as a rod.

 

The prince’s ears turned red and Jack blinked owlishly before his lips twitched up into a grin and a laugh trickled out of him at the mortified expression on the prince’s face as he scolded his not at all ashamed dragon for being a ‘whiny baby.’

 

Hiccup blinked at the sound of Jack’s laughter, pausing in his half-hearted tirade to listen. The lines around his eyes softened and his fingers stopped drumming against the table.

 

Once Jack was finished, Hiccup took care of the dishes, put them away, and quietly led Jack upstairs through the dark corridors after he let Toothless outside. 

 

At the raised eyebrow from Jack, Hiccup told him that Toothless either slept outside on the roof or in his room where there was a large space for him to sleep in. Whatever the dragon chose to do on that particular day. According to Hiccup, it depended on whether or not the dragon felt like sleeping upside down, his wings folded around himself to shield the light from his face like a bat, or if he wanted to sleep curled up like a cat on the windowsill.

 

Hiccup’s lips quirked upward into a faint grin at the expression of apparent fascination on Jack’s face, and asked him if he’d like to know more about the dragons on Berk.

 

“Uh, well,” Jack said, furrowing his brows because he figured that answer should’ve been plainly obvious. “Of course I do. There’s.. there’s some kind of book on them, right? Fishlegs mentioned something about a book earlier, said that he’d let me borrow it if I asked.”

 

The prince’s expression brightened and his green eyes glittered with a sudden enthusiasm that took Jack aback. The prince told Jack to hold on for a few moments, turned on his heel and sped down the hall, disappearing into the darkness. Jack was left standing by his door for only a few minutes, unsure what to do with himself when he heard the opening and closing of a wooden door from down the hall, then the sound of footsteps growing louder and louder heading his way.

 

Hiccup reappeared into the light of the lanterns that lit the hallway with a large book in his hands; some pieces of paper stuck out from between the yellowed pages, and there were splotches of ink on the cover. Hiccup held it out for him to take. His green eyes were bright and his smile so wide that it threatened to split his face in half, but it was so toothy and pleased that Jack couldn’t help but find it endearing in its childish glee.

 

He’d almost call it adorable.

 

Jack looked down at the book, then at the prince who continued to smile at him. Looking back down at it, he ignored the sudden warmth on the tip of his nose and reached his hands out. 

 

On the front cover was a faded dragon with sharp ridges forming a circle, as if it was trying to eat its tail. It was old and fraying, and Jack saw a couple of dark ribbons saving spots and sections, acting as bookmarks. Gingerly, he took it from Hiccup’s hold and held the book in his palms, the sheer weight of the tome causing his hands to dip, nearly causing it to fall out of his hold before righting himself. Once in a steady grip, he observed it in rapt fascination and ran his thumb along the weathered spine.

 

“This is the Book of Dragons,” Hiccup said. “It’ll tell you everything you could ever possibly need to know about any of the dragons here on Berk, the surrounding lands, and even further away.” His grin widened and he shifted on his feet, barely containing his excitement. “But it’s not quite finished yet. We’re still always discovering new species, so I always put new notes in it.”

 

Jack looked up at him, Fishlegs’s words from earlier echoing in his mind and his brown eyes widened slightly. He looked down at the book and flipped to a random page within the text. Staring up at him was a curved, angular scrawl that darted across the page; full of questions, hypotheses, conclusions, little drawings and sketches, dates and numbers, the time of the year. A detailed sketch of a three-headed dragon stared up at him with slit eyes and Jack ran his fingers along the parchment.

 

The tips of his fingers shook as he realized that within these pages were notes that Hiccup himself wrote, these were his sketches, and this was _his_ handwriting, all products of his work, and he promptly closed the book, the noise reverberating through the halls. The prince simply rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet lightly as Jack looked up at him with an emotion that Jack himself couldn’t decipher.

 

Whatever it was, it made him feel undeserving of the book in his hands.

 

Hiccup just gave a small, sheepish smile. He scratched at his cheek and looked to the side.

 

“Isn’t this yours?” Jack asked, brows furrowing. “You.. You make notes in this, wouldn’t you want to keep it so that you can keep putting them in?”

 

The prince shrugged a shoulder and shook his head. “Yeah, but I don’t need it anymore. I’ve pretty much got it all memorized, and I can always start making a new book.” He smiled and rubbed at the back of his head. “There can be more than one book on dragons, and we’re always still learning so much about them that we’ll probably just wind up having an eight or nine volume set. You can keep it.”

 

Jack’s brows rose high on his head, stomach feeling weirdly light again. “Really?”

 

Hiccup smiled, and he nodded once.

 

When they said their goodnights in front of the wooden door to Jack’s bedroom, the prince stood several feet away from him and held his hands tucked behind his back. Jack’s last image of Hiccup from that night consisted of his green eyes, the warm curl of his mouth, and the candlelight flickering against his brown hair as Jack gingerly shut the door. He heard the sound of footsteps walking away after a short pause, and Jack was left frowning at the wood, pondering on the other male’s strange final words of departure;

 

“I will see you tomorrow night. Goodnight, Jack.”

 

Tomorrow night...?

 

Jack had frowned, but he said goodnight in return, prepared for bed, and when he’d lain down on the soft mattress, soothed by the crackling of the fire and its warmth, sleep came to him with an oddly relative ease.

 

He dreamt of his father, his thin hands grasping his shoulder as he told him the story of Manny. They were sitting on the roof, the air was cool with oncoming winter, frost coating the tips of the grass, and the sky was clear.

 

He looked towards the stars and saw two dragons dancing across the night. One black as the sky, sharp wings cutting through the stars, the other tracing the tips of its claws along the surface of the lake, its scales glittering auburn and red against the moonlight.

 

Jack leapt off the roof to join the auburn dragon when he landed and stroked at his neck. The dragon crooned, looked at him, opened his maw and began to speak.

 

Before he could hear the dragon’s voice, he woke up.

 

And just as the prince had implied the night before, there was no sign of Hiccup when he ventured down to the kitchens for something to eat, unsure of where he was to go for breakfast. He walked down the hallway, peeking through any rooms with an open door, tip toeing down the stairs of the empty, quiet manor, looking for any sign of the brown-haired prince. But he found none.

 

After a venture through the castle, stumbling upon what looked like a barren dining room, he went down to the kitchens to quickly grab some bread and butter. As he chewed on a corner of the slice, biting through the salted lox, he saw the dishes from the night before sitting on the countertop, but no Hiccup, nor any sign of Toothless. As he followed the same path Hiccup had taken the night before, he strained his ears for the sound of heavy, clawed feet against the floor, boots on the wood, anything to indicate that the prince was awake and moving about his home. But there was nothing. There was no sign of Hiccup.

 

Irritation was quick to flare back to life.

 

It seemed as if they’d come to some kind of understanding with each other the night before, and the prince not revealing his face had been a setback already, but he’d agreed to be patient. He’d agreed to wait for Hiccup to tell him, and while he wasn’t completely all right with that agreement, he accepted it.

 

There was clearly something holding the prince back, and while Jack was more curious than ever to find out what it was, he had to wait.

 

He’d just hoped that maybe the pace could’ve picked up if he’d met with Hiccup the morning afterwards.

 

But, perhaps he was jumping to conclusions too quickly about Hiccup. Perhaps he’d see him later in the day. He was a _prince_ after all, surely he had some more important duties to attend to throughout the day, responsibilities expected of a young monarch and other tasks assigned to him. He couldn’t spend every moment of his time answering Jack’s questions and satisfying his curiosities.

 

Even if they were supposed to be getting married.

 

Reasoning to himself that the prince was most likely busy, that he’d see him later, Jack contented himself to a small breakfast, the tips of his fingers jittery from overwhelmed nerves at being so far from home, away from his family, in a land he believed was only a tale told by his mother, and the prince he’d met the day before. It was all so hard to believe, still.

 

And, as he sipped at his warm milk, sitting by himself at the table in the middle of the kitchen, hedecided that he wasn’t sure if he was ready to see the prince again so soon.

 

Once he was finished, he washed the dishes out of habit and courtesy, put them away (he remembered where Hiccup had pulled them out the night before), and pulled his cloak over his shoulders. Scarf wrapped around his neck, he stepped out the door and squinted at the sunlight beaming down from the mountains. He heard the crunch of the snow beneath his feet and the trills of dragons, the beat of their wings, and their rumbles as they flew overhead.

 

The overcast skies from the day before were gone and, patting at the compass in his pocket, Jack decided that he needed to get out of the manor and explore Berk a little more intimately. He’d only gotten a sparing glance at the village last night; he’d been so awestruck by the kingdom that he hadn’t taken the time to truly drink in its rustic, hard beauty and its wooden structures so colorful and creative in how they seemed to be structured for dragons to perch on. Walking around the city at night, led by the queen to the arena, hadn’t given him that much of a concise, detailed picture either.

 

But now, with the sun keeping his skin warm, piercing through the mountain slopes and shimmering on the ocean, he could see it all.

 

He wouldn’t be able to see all of Berk in a single day, but he could get a head start.

 

There was the taste of something sharp on the tip of his tongue, and Jack quickly realized that it was salt. He could smell it on the wind, coming from beyond the mountains. The taste of sea foam and salt, sloshing on the half-frozen sand and rocks that spanned the coast, flew on the air and Jack drank it in. He wondered what the ocean looked like from up close, if he would be able to see it himself soon.

 

Jack gave a final glance over his shoulder at the entrance to the manor, his smile falling into a frown, and looked up at the sky at the sound of a dragon’s screeching. He saw a flock of little dragons flutter above him, wide yellow eyes, wriggling tails and an array of green shaded scales, the same dragons he saw following an old woman the day before. He walked off of the porch and into the village.

 

He hoped that the king and queen didn’t mind that he was wandering off on his own, he thought with a small wince, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. The thought of being cooped up all day in the manor was a suffocating one, and if he was going to be living in Berk for the rest of his life, then he wanted to get to know his new ‘home’ better.

 

Maybe he’d explore the manor later, or tomorrow. Maybe Hiccup would volunteer to show him around his home. ..Maybe.

 

Frown on his lips, he sighed and walked further away into the village center, following the flock of dragons and remembering how Valka’d led him through the village to the arena the night before.

 

A pair of green eyes peered over the roof of the manor and blinked down at Jack’s brown cloaked form walking through the snow. Claws scraped against the tile of the roof, a pair of wings tucked to his sides and a tail lifted into the air, and then a large figure landed softly onto the snow covered ground. Green eyes stared after Jack’s retreating form and then those wings opened, taking to the sky. 

 

After the excitement of the night before that consisted of hundreds of eyes on him, the people of Berk seemed remarkably disinterested in him as Jack walked through the village. Jack wasn’t hurt or upset by that development in the least. In fact, as he watched baby dragons trot after their mothers and their human companions with a smile curling on the corner of his mouth, he preferred it. The lack of attention allowed his stomach to relax and for him to properly absorb Berk’s sights and what it had to offer.

 

The sun slowly rose high in the sky, the clouds beginning to part and streak with bright shades of blue. Jack ducked between gruff looking men, women, and mischievous children on nimble, quick feet, taking in the dragon perches that were attached to every household. Some dragons were still sleeping on their perches, their heads and snouts tucked beneath their wings, while others were curled up like cats on the rooftops.

 

Beams and arches stood high over several households and buildings, and Jack had to squint to see the large buckets of water hung high over the wooden structures. He didn’t have to ponder long on why they were there before a small Gronckle, a baby, fluttered in the air and sneezed, setting a small hut ablaze. Jack could only gape as a Monstrous Nightmare pulled the rope for the bucket and sprayed water down on the burning hut, putting it out before the fire could spread further. The accident didn’t draw much concern from the Berkians, and Jack could only idly guess that it was a pretty common occurrence around Berk.

 

It made sense though. Dragons had to be a bit of a fire hazard in a village built out of wood.

 

He’d been stricken by the small fire, eyes wide, but the blasé reaction from the Berkians allowed him to calm down, quirk a small grin at the baby Gronckle twitching its nose as it flew back to its mother, and continue on his self-guided tour of Berk.

 

Jack found out that there were feeding stations built around the village where dragons could land from flying around for a quick snack, grabbing fish between their teeth, and some kind of building where they could wash themselves when their riders and human companions weren’t around. Stables were built on the outside of homes, customized to fit the designs of the houses they were attached to.

 

Almost every building Jack saw as he walked around was built to adjust to having winged reptilian creatures living in their village, part of their daily lives, every aspect mundane and not, and Jack was floored.

 

He could only wonder once more how this all came to be, reeling back from the amazement of it all.

 

As Jack wandered off into a part of Berk that consisted more of trees, hills, and snow covered peaks, he tried to imagine what Burgess would’ve looked like if dragons came to live there, too. He tried to picture building a perch for the auburn dragon to sleep and rest on and bringing bags of fish home for the dragon to eat, the dragon using his breath to cook them. He imagined one of the small dragons (a Terrible Terror, he discovered while flipping through the Book of Dragons the night before as he drifted off to sleep, inducing a raised eyebrow) curling itself around Emma’s shoulders, her smile as she scratched underneath its chin and her laugh as it purred and crooned at her, rubbing its snout against her face. He thought of his mother and wondered what kind of dragon would suit her best, concluding that a Deadly Nadder would be the best fit, and smiled.

 

His chest twisted with a small, aching sensation beneath his collarbone and, as he came to a stop on a small boulder that overlooked the village, not too far away from what appeared to be the outer lines of the village, his smile fell. His hand searched beneath his cloak and when his fingers brushed against cool metal, pulled out the compass. He ran his thumb over the glass and watched the arrow twitch before it settled on pointing north. Brown eyes closed and he pressed the compass tight against his chest, sighing slowly.

 

The wind was light and cool, and the tips of his hair brushed against his forehead as he watched the dragons fly overhead and the Berkians rummage through the village. He tucked a leg in, wrapped an arm around it, and perched his chin on his knee. He stared down at the village until he heard the beating of thin but strong wings on the wind, the crunching of snow beneath a heavy weight, and a low, familiar trill.

 

Blinking widely, Jack lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. A small smile curled on his lips as he met deep green eyes that were blinking at him.

 

“Hey, there, big guy,” he said. A toothy grin stretched across his face. “Glad to see that you didn’t disappear on me again.”

 

The auburn dragon lowered to the ground and folded his wings to his sides, giving a low croon of apology, his green eyes widening in a show of guilt on his draconic face.

 

The grin on Jack’s lips softened and he laughed, his eyes crinkling. The tightness in his chest eased and his shoulders relaxed.

 

“It’s okay,” he said. He patted the space beside him. “C’mon, get over here already and keep me company, huh?”

 

The dragon’s lips seemed to curl upwards and he lifted his head. His claws scratched and crunched against the snow as he walked forward to the brown haired human. He settled down next to Jack, tucking his thin, slender legs underneath him, and the tip of his tail twitched as he relaxed, swinging back and forth lazily.

 

Jack raised a hand to rub at the tip of the dragon’s snout and he grinned widely when he heard and felt the low purr from the dragon. Gently, he guided his friend to rest his head in his lap and stroked at his neck, the tightness in his chest easing away as if it never existed at all. The dragon’s eyes were closed and Jack could feel his warm breath through his nostrils, the smooth auburn scales thrumming with warmth beneath his touch.

 

Jack absently wondered if the auburn dragon could breathe fire like the other dragons below. He’d only glanced at the Book of Dragons a little bit the night before and didn’t get to read more than a few pages before he’d drifted off to sleep, exhausted by the long day he’d had and the lack of sleep from the night before. Jack didn’t remember much about what he’d read apart from a few pages about Terrible Terrors, Deadly Nadders, and a dragon that appeared to be a recent discovery. He’d been drawn in by the unique body structure and shape of the dragon, but he’d been so tired that he couldn’t recall what the name of the dragon was.

 

Oh, well. He could read it later.

 

For now, he needed a few minutes to just _breathe_.

 

Jack ran his fingers along the dragon’s spine and smiled warmly at the rumble he felt against his legs. Teasing, he moved his fingers to scratch behind the dragon’s ears. His smile widened into a grin when he heard the dragon purr again and he laughed.

 

A pair of green eyes cracked open to give him a wry glare, and Jack grinned cheekily at him.

 

“Sorry,” he said, not feeling very sorry at all.

 

The auburn dragon stared at him, sniffed, and closed his eyes again, lulled into relaxation from Jack’s deft hands along his scales. Grinning, Jack raised an eyebrow at him, palm lingering against his neck.

 

“So, where were you last night?” He asked teasingly. “You must’ve been pretty tired to not even be at the race.”

 

A single green eye slit open and Jack’s grin softened when the dragon gave a soft whuff, closing his eye again. He pat the scales.

 

“Yeah, well,” he said, shrugging. “You deserved a rest, I mean, you flew all the way to come get me and then back here. You _had_ to have been tired.” Shifting in his seat, Jack tucked his legs in and laid his side against the dragon’s, feeling the beast stiffen beneath him before relaxing. He felt green eyes on him and Jack closed his eyes, smiling. He said, softly, “Thank you, again, by the way. Not just for taking me here but.. just being here. Makes it easier, you know.”

 

The last sentence fell into a murmur as Jack drifted into a little nap, unperturbed by the crisp, cold air, a smile on his lips as he curled up against the dragon, never feeling so warm and safe before. He missed the way the lines around the dragon’s eyes creased, a flicker of uncertainty and guilt in the specks of green as the auburn dragon lowered his head to the snow-laden ground and curled his tail around the young human male.

 

The dragon peered up at the sun beaming from behind the clouds, and let out a slow, shuddering breath.

 

Once he was finished with his short nap, bothered little by the icy wind nipping at his nose and ears, turning his pale skin a flushed pink, he and the auburn dragon returned to the main village, the dragon guiding him back when Jack found himself lost amongst the unfamiliar landscape. Thanking the dragon with a little scratch behind the ears, Jack grinned and let himself be led around the village, the auburn dragon playing as his guide.

 

Perhaps he ought to become used to it, but he was still surprised and initially confused by the nonplussed reaction of the villagers towards the dragon leading him around. If they looked at the odd pair at all, it was with little more than a sparing glance, a raised eyebrow at the strange young man from the south, maybe a nod or a smile sent his way. Some villagers walked past him without even lifting their eyes to him. Jack was caught between feeling indignant and relieved. Remembering the hundreds of eyes on him the night before, he settled for the latter.

 

So many eyes on him, looking at him with such rapt attention, knowing what he was there for... it made him fidget and grip at his upper arm in confused discomfort. But the pair of eyes that struck through him with the most vitality belonged to the prince who did not show his face.

 

Slit green eyes glanced at Jack when his jaw clenched tightly and his brow furrowed, his mouth in a thin, firm line. His back was rigid and he glared at the snow in front of him, toeing the ground with the point of his boots, a wave of frustration washing over him. Hearing a low, soft growl of concern, Jack blinked and gave the dragon a faint half-smile.

 

“I’m okay,” he said. “Just, a bit frustrated is all.”

 

The auburn dragon’s stare bore through him with such intelligence and intensity, making it quite clear that the dragon didn’t believe what he was saying, whether it was because of his body language or his tone of voice, staring at him as if he was trying to see through his very soul. 

 

Jack found himself stricken with a familiarity that left him feeling unnerved, unusual around the dragon, and Jack’s smile faltered, twitching into a little frown. He looked down at the ground once more, breathed in deep, and looked up at the sky. His hand sought out the dragon’s side, and he grinned when he felt scales against his skin. He turned and the lines around the dragon’s eyes were softened again, the muscles underneath the scales vibrating with his purr. Green eyes opened and the dragon’s lips curled upward. Jack’s grin widened.

 

With the dragon as his pseudo guide, Jack got a better understanding of where things were in Berk, which building was which, and even saw what appeared to be a nursery for baby dragons as well as a sick bay.

 

 Jack lingered at the nursery for a fair few minutes, the auburn dragon sitting back and playfully swatting baby Terrible Terrors (He understood the root behind the choice of name when one of them nearly burned his eyebrows off) away from biting at his tail while Jack ran cautious, curious fingers over the spines of baby Deadly Nadders. They blinked their wide yellow eyes at him, cooed and trilled, curling up in his arms and Jack fell in love in an instant. It took the auburn dragon taking the back of his cloak between his teeth, pulling him back a few steps, before Jack found enough self-control to let them down and walk away from the nursery.

 

He lightly smacked the dragon’s side when he wouldn’t stop chuffing with laughter, his cheeks flushed.

 

Their tour came to a stop when a sudden burst of fire flared out from the back of a building made of both metal and wood, causing the auburn dragon’s wings to jolt and Jack to jump, nearly toppling over.

 

 Blinking widely, Jack narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. The dragon could only let out a huff, resembling a resigned sigh, when Jack slowly walked towards the entrance of the building. He walked by a stack of axes, some clean and shining in the high early morning sun and others stained and rusting, their sharp edges making Jack clear his throat and look away, while the dragon walked along the outside.

 

He heard the sound of metal clanking together, heavy footsteps, the sound of wood against wood, a large form shuffling about the interior of the metal building

 

“Startin’ up the fire is all I said to do! Not nearly burn my whole house down! _Again!_ That’s it, Grump! You’re goin’ up fer adoption!”

 

Jack blinked.

 

His brows thickened as they furrowed together, the sound of a thick accented voice grumbling to itself through the wooden walls twitching familiarity into the back of Jack’s mind. He’d heard that voice before; boisterous, loud, entrenched in deep-set sarcasm. He’d heard it the night before. It belonged to the same man who’d commented during the race.

 

..Wasn’t his name ‘Gobber?’ Didn’t the king call him that?

 

Curiosity growing further, Jack glanced inside an open window and blinked rapidly at a sudden burst of heat, making the ends of his hair curl. 

 

A fire was burning inside the building, and Jack openly gaped at all of the machinery inside, the open fireplace blazing and filling the building with a sweltering warmth. Jack heard something sizzling and noticed the smell of burning metal; it was a smell he knew. Not terribly well, but enough to recognize. It was the smell of a blacksmith shop. Metal clanked together in rhythmic fashion as wheels and cogs turned, heavy and rusting. Jack could smell ash, firewood, and iron.

 

Tilting his head, he wondered how a blacksmith could be so close to a king of all people, and with a smile curled on his lips, he turned to look for the auburn dragon. 

 

Only to frown when he didn’t find him.

 

“Big guy?” He murmured.

 

Standing beside the window, Jack rubbed at the back of his neck, sighed, and walked away to look for his wayward draconic friend.

 

“Snoopin’ around this early, are ya? Stoick was wonderin’ where you were. I can see why the kid likes ya.”

 

(Years later, when faced with a very amused prince trying to hold back his laughter as Jack retold the story to him, Jack would deny ever having screeched. He did not screech, he simply. Yelled. In alarm. That was all.)

 

Heart leaping into his throat, Jack’s brown eyes blew wide open at the sight of amused gray and a wide, toothy smile containing some missing teeth and metal (or granite) replacements, bushy dirty blonde eyebrows raising high.

 

Barely managing not to stumble onto his rear, Jack rubbed at his chest, trying to calm his racing heart and breathed. 

 

“Uh,” he said.

 

Thick brows that seemed to thread into each other rose higher. “Kinda skittish, aren’t ya?”

 

“I’m not,” Jack said, scowling, a bit insulted and unnerved by the way the man seemed to be studying him. “You just, uh, took me by surprise.”

 

“Well, that’s what happens when ya snoop around, innit?” The man drawled.

 

The scowl deepening as a warm flush of embarrassment grew on Jack’s cheeks, he blinked when he heard a low chuffing noise, rumbled out, quick and harsh, from the other side of the forge. The amused smirk fell and the older man rolled his eyes with a groan, moving away from the window to look at something else that was inside. 

 

“All right, all right, _fine_ , I’ll be nice! And don’t give me that look, ya big bairn,” he retorted, mulish and stubborn.

 

Jack heard a low sniff and a grunt.

 

“And don’t ya get all lippy with me!”

 

Another grunt, this one a bit more derisive and familiar sounding.

 

Jack’s brows rose high and he leaned in to look inside the building through the window, and a grin curled on his lips at a flash of auburn and the sound of heavy feet shuffling around the outside of the forge.

 

The man with a peg leg and bushy eyebrows glanced at Jack, observed his growing smile and rolled his eyes with an aggravated breath. “ **Fine!** C’mon in, kid. I think yer annoyin’ scaly friend is waitin’ fer ya.”

 

He rolled his eyes again at a satisfied rumble and a happy sniff. 

 

Jack hid a smile and smothered a laugh behind his fist, disguising it with a small cough. At Gobber’s grumpy grumble for him to get on with it and come on inside (the proper way, through the door), Jack stifled any snickers threatening to tumble out of his mouth and did as he was told, pushing against the heavy wooden door to enter. He stopped to look up at the doorframe and stare at the metal dragon overlooking the entryway before going through the open entrance, the door shutting with a heavy slam behind him.

 

The smell of ash, wood, and metal was even thicker on the inside, and it was so warm that the thought of taking off his cloak was a tempting one. Some pieces of wood had smoke billowing up from them, scorched black and flickered with bright red, glowing in the dim lighting of the forge. The only source of light came from the open windows, the gray light of the overcast sky cool and familiar, and from the burning fires of the hearth. Jack heard something sizzling and turned to find a thin piece of metal burning orange and bright in the hearth. Jack could see the heat swimming in the air above the piece of metal.

 

He heard the sound of Gobber’s wooden leg hitting the stone floors of the forge with each step and turned to see the man turning a wheel, and Jack blinked at the sight of different tools resting on the wheel. The movement only stopped when Gobber seemed to find what he was looking for, mumbling something to himself, and Jack held his mouth shut with a steadfast resolve, just barely holding back the urge to gape stupidly like a fish when Gobber plucked off his left arm (a prosthetic in the shape of a hammer, and it seemed rather hot looking, as if he’d just been pounding away at a hot piece of metal), to put on a different attachment with a large, round, uneven rock on the end. It looked heavy enough to crack Jack’s skull right open if he happened to make the man angry.

 

He swallowed and trailed after the man with some caution.

 

Hearing a familiar trill and at the sight of a large, scaly head perched on a windowsill, he relaxed and gave the auburn dragon a small wave and a cheery grin. He dropped it, pursed his lips and held his hands behind his back when Gobber turned around after adjusting his prosthetic.

 

Gobber gave the auburn dragon, who was looking rather smug, a dry stare and swatted his nose. Jack bit down on his lip to stifle a snicker at the dragon’s affronted, growly yelp.

 

“Stop lookin’ so satisfied with yerself, go find somethin’ to do, ya useless lizard!”

 

The dragon huffed primly, and Jack held back another laugh at the almost roll of the dragon’s green eyes. But the dragon did as he was told and slunk away from the window. Jack heard the beat of wings, the sound of something heavy landing on top of the roof, and Gobber muttering something under his breath as he shook his head, giving a half smirk, half grimace at the direction the dragon had gone.

 

Amused as he was at the banter between the man and the dragon, Jack shifted on his two feet, feeling rather out of place, and cleared his throat loudly. The muscles in his shoulders stiffened when blue eyes fell on him, and Jack stood up with a straightened back.

 

“So,” he started. “You’re... Gobber, right?”

 

The man’s eyebrows rose. “Ya know my name already?”

 

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, kinda heard the king say your name last night, at the, uh.. race.” The tip of his nose colored and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards and he blurted out, “You were kinda hard to miss.”

 

Gobber blinked.

 

A faint chuff could be heard outside a nearby window, stifled and quiet.

 

Jack was about to splutter out an apology, his cheeks beginning to turn a ruddy color-- when the older man gave a bellowing laugh that made his mouth shut with a sharp click. He blinked, and Gobber kept on laughing.

 

“Oh, Thor---” Gobber wheezed, “O’ ‘course yer a mouthy one, I shoulda known--”

 

“Um,” Jack said, confused.

 

Groaning, the auburn dragon shielded his face with a wing and curled into himself on the roof of the forge.

 

Finishing the last of his chortles, Gobber cleared his throat and pulled up his trousers by the belt loops as he gave an upward quirk of his mouth. Jack was unsure if it was an attempt at a smile, or a grimace.

 

“Looks like we didn’t get properly introduced,” Gobber said. His mouth curled further upward. “I’m Gobber, official blacksmith, weapons maker and the greatest (and only) expert in dragon dental hygiene in all of Berk, friend o’ the king and babysitter of his son.”

 

Jack blinked and Gobber struck out his right hand for him to shake. He looked down at it and the hand was so large that Jack was sure a small squeeze would crush all of the bones in his hand. He swallowed and, with some hesitation and an uncertain grin, shook the older man’s hand.

 

“Jackson Overland, but call me Jack,” he said. 

 

Gobber’s grip was firm and tight, though mercifully the giant of a man didn’t feel like crushing his hand.

 

“But you, um, probably already know that,” Jack mumbled as Gobber let go, and he felt quite on-the-spot at the smirk that spread on the blacksmith’s face.

 

“Kinda hard to miss, what with Stoick pointin’ ya out,” he drawled. “I think the entire village knows who ya are, now.”

 

The parroting of his own words made Jack’s nose turn pink and his feet shuffled in place, feeling awkward and unsure how to act around the man.

 

“Right,” he said. Then, he remembered what Gobber had just said and furrowed his brows. “Wait a minute, did you just call yourself Hic-” He paused.

 

Polishing one of his hammers, Gobber glanced at the young man, but said nothing.

 

“..Håkon, you said you were Håkon’s babysitter?” The furrow of his brow tightened. “Isn’t he, like.. my age?”

 

Gobber snorted and continued to polish. “Oh, aye, he’s about yer age, maybe a year or two older, but accordin’ to his father, he might as well still be a wee thing wanderin’ off all the time.”

 

“Oh,” he said. Because there was nothing else he could say in response to that.

 

He didn’t even know how old Hiccup was.

 

The muscles in his back and shoulders tightened, his stomach coiled in discomfort and Jack felt a sudden rush of fresh irritation and he gripped at one arm as he gave a brief scowl to his boots. He cleared his throat and looked up, expression cool and voice light as he asked, casually, “Just how old is he?”

 

Gobber squinted at the sheen of the metal. “Nineteen, should be twenty later this year. And sit down already, would ya? Make yerself comfortable and don’t just stand there, I’m not gonna bite ya.”

 

Shoulders jerking, Jack blinked widely at Gobber and the other man gave him a sharp, amused grin, and nodded his head towards a bench underneath the window. He heard something heavy rest on the windowsill and he turned, feeling his muscles unclench at the sight of large green eyes peering at him. Laughing quietly under his breath, Jack did as he was told for a change and sat down, his irritation seeping away as the auburn dragon’s jaw pressed against his shoulder and his palm rubbed at the curve of his neck.

 

Gobber watched and the hardened lines of his eyes softened, ever so subtly, before he returned to polishing his hammer, still not satisfied.

 

“There, that’s better,” he said, giving the metal a final rub. “We’re all family here, no need ta be skittish ‘round me.”

 

Jack’s grin stiffened and he looked down at the floor. “Right.. sorry.”

 

It was going to be a while before he could even begin to consider Gobber, the king, queen and the prince as family, if he ever did. He already had one. And they were miles and mountains away.

 

The auburn dragon glanced at him and gave a quiet rumble deep in his chest. It felt like a large cat purring against him, only instead of soft fur and little claws that dug through his thin skin, hard smooth scales rubbed gently against his cheek. Smiling, Jack gave the dragon’s neck a light pat.

 

Finally satisfied with his polishing job, Gobber put the hammer away and Jack dragged the heel of his boot against the floor.

 

“So.. you’ve known Håkon for a long time?” He asked.

 

Gobber picked up and inspected a rusted poker, squinting at it. “I’m sure he’s asked ya to call ‘im Hiccup by this point, so you can just call him that around me. But aye, I’ve known him ever since he was even littler than he is now, when he was just a wee babe.”

 

What with his several inches over him (and Jack himself wasn’t that short), Jack hardly thought of Hiccup as ‘little.’ Although, compared to the bear of a man that was his father...

 

When it came to size and his slight form, Hiccup appeared to take after his mother.

 

He felt the auburn dragon grunt against his shoulder, and Jack raised an eyebrow at him.

 

Nonplussed, Gobber continued, putting the poker in the hearth. “Used to work here all the time, probably ‘cause Stoick wanted to make sure that Hiccup didn’t wind up gettin’ himself killed the minute he walked out the door.” He stoked the fire, then thought, contemplated expression on his face. “Things always did wind up gettin’ set on fire whene’er he stepped outside...”

 

The auburn dragon’s deep green eyes rolled and a low, chuff of a growl rumbled deep in his chest. At Gobber’s dry stare, the dragon huffed, smoke billowing out of his nostrils and past his slightly parted teeth.

 

Jack could only gape, paying no attention to the exchange between dragon and blacksmith.

 

“Wait, wait, _what--_ ”

 

“How he didn’ wind up gettin’ his limbs chopped off just by workin’ in the forge and all o’ these sharp objects here, I’ll never know,” Gobber sighed.

 

Jack clenched his eyes shut and rubbed at his temple to ease the sudden throbbing. Blinking and squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again a couple of times, Jack lowered his hand.

 

“You said he works here, right? If he does, well.. where is he now?”

 

There was a sharp edge to Jack’s question as he realized that he still hadn’t seen any sign of the prince since they bid each other goodnight. He hadn’t even seen Toothless, and if the black dragon was around, Jack was certain he’d see Hiccup. But it was midday now, and there was still no sight of him, nor of Toothless, and Jack found it all the more puzzling; he’d always assumed that those betrothed to each other would prefer to spend as much time together as possible, but he’d only been with the prince in person for little more than a few hours. And fate had it that he’d stumbled upon the blacksmith shop where he worked, and apart from Gobber, a very large, sleeping dragon that resembled a Gronckle and the auburn dragon, there was no one else in the forge.

 

So where was he?

 

A tight coil twisted in his chest and Jack gripped his knee tightly.

 

There was a soft rumble in his ear and a little nudge against his shoulder.

 

Gobber stared at the younger male, his mouth in an unreadable line as he set the poker aside, the sizzling of the orange end, the crackle and spit of the hearth, and the sound of Grump’s deep snoring filling the forge. He lifted his stare to the auburn dragon and the dragon did not look at him.

 

“He’s not here durin’ the day,” he said. “He works with me later on in the early evenin’s. He’s a busy kid, bein’ a prince and all, he can’t be around all the time. Especially now that he’s a committed man, he’s got a looot of work to do durin’ the day.”

 

The back of Jack’s neck felt hot when Gobber’s brows seemed to wriggle up and down, a grin teasing and purposeful growing on his face, and he pulled his hood lower to hide the flush growing on his nose.

 

The auburn dragon gave a higher pitched groan and covered his face with his wing.

 

\---

 

For all of his gruffness and sarcastic quips, Jack gradually found himself enjoying Gobber’s company. While he was certainly intimidating, what with all of the sharp metals, irons, and machinery all about the forge that Jack was liable to either trip over or get his hand stuck in, how he towered over Jack and could probably crush him with ease, he had a dry sense of humor and didn’t treat Jack like he was an idiot. It was something Jack appreciated; while parents back in the village adored Jack when he was with their children, watching over them while they did their errands, they and the other adults in Burgess had the tendency to not take him seriously. Perhaps it was a consequence of being a trickster eager to play and have fun and not being interested in partaking in an apprenticeship at the age expected of him, but it wasn’t something Jack enjoyed.

 

There was already so little he knew now that he was in Berk, and he appreciated having his questions answered by someone who wasn’t going to treat him like he was a fool.

 

Gobber also seemed to find thrill in some of the quick-tongued remarks and sardonic drawls Jack gave in response on instinct, laughing instead of taking offense.

 

His hand was heavy when he patted Jack’s shoulder and there was a distinct twinkle in his eyes as he said, “You two are gonna get along quite well.”

 

His stomach felt light, something in his chest tightening, but he’d given Gobber a small, thin, albeit kind smile all the same.

 

While Gobber showed him around the forge, taking care to make sure that Jack didn’t get his fingers stuck between any of the machinery or burn himself, Jack took the time to look at all of the saddles that were strung up along the walls. When asked, Gobber explained that while he wasa blacksmith, he also made specially commissioned saddles and other trinkets designed specifically for dragons, as requested by their riders.

 

Owners, he did not say.

 

Jack, for his part, just barely held back the urge to ask Gobber if taking care of dragon’s teeth was how he lost his left hand.

 

He was also introduced to Grump, Gobber’s dragon, and Jack could only blink at the giant, sleeping lump of a dragon that was several times his size. Gobber complained about how lazy the dragon was, how often him sleeping on the job led to the fire in the hearth dying out (causing Jack to recall the one-sided argument he’d heard before entering the forge). According to Gobber, Grump was a Hotburple, and though he greatly resembled a Gronckle, he was more of a distant cousin in terms of the separate breeds. 

 

The blacksmith pat his palm roughly against the dragon’s side, and Grump only stirred slightly, his yellow eyes flickering open into slits. He blinked lazily at Jack a couple of times before closing them and rolling full onto his stomach, the impact making the forge shudder and Jack jump. He blinked and heard the chuff of draconic laughter from outside.

 

Grump only stirred without Gobber’s irritated urging when the auburn dragon poked his head through the open window of the forge and trilled at him. The Hotburple gave a low growl that made the fire rumble and stutter, and the pair of dragons exchanged a series of low growls, chuffs, and purr-like noises, in a conversation only they could understand.

 

Jack watched in fascination as Grump leaned up enough to bop his nose against the auburn dragon’s, who made a higher-pitched trill in return and responded with the same movement. Gobber only rolled his eyes and went back to work.

 

Some hours before sundown, Gobber shooed Jack out of his shop and told him that he ought to go back to the manor; due to the overwhelming day he’d had, both the king and queen decided that it was best to let Jack have some space to adjust to the change of setting the day after his arrival, but they’d hoped and expected that he’d be back before nightfall. They knew that he was safe and there was no need to go looking for him or worry about his whereabouts.

 

At Jack’s inquisitive raise of an eyebrow, Gobber smirked and gestured towards the auburn dragon, who was looking at the pair of them upside down as he stayed rooted on the roof of the forge, glowing green eyes blinking at them.

 

“With how he seems to be attached to ya at the hip, I don’t think we have any need to worry about you gettin’ lost around here or somethin’ snatchin’ ya away,” Gobber said, rolling his eyes. He spluttered when, slit green eyes narrowed and a warning rumble given, the dragon blew a hot breath right into his face.

 

Jack laughed and reached forward to scratch the appreciative dragon’s chin, grinning at the purr that vibrated beneath the scales.

 

Once Gobber was done cussing the rather prim and smug looking dragon out, he gruffly told Jack to go away and rejoin proper royal society, making the younger male laugh as he was led out the door.

 

Beams of red and orange flooded the gray clouds and the shadows from the peaks of the mountains were growing thicker, the black slopes sharp in contrast to the piercing white, and Jack recalled the prince’s words from the night before.

 

_I will see you tomorrow night_.

 

He frowned and lifted his uncertain stare to the sky as a flock of Terrible Terrors flew overhead.

 

\---

 

The streets of Berk were quiet and rather barren, the opposite mirror image of the village just hours before, and Jack was met with the sight of Deadly Nadders perched on the stands made especially for them on top of houses, eyes closed and snouts partially tucked underneath their wings. Monstrous Nightmares were curled along the rooftops, smoke billowing out from their nostrils, and families of Gronckles were nestled against each other. All were ready to tuck in for the night, having had their meals, and the Berkians were inside preparing for dinner, warm and cloistered in their homes. Jack enjoyed the solitude the emptiness gave him, though he supposed he couldn’t really call it solitude when he had the dragon at his side.

 

Maybe he should’ve expected Cloudjumper’s glowing yellow eyes as his head turned in his owlish way, warbling softly at him as he approached the entrance of the manor, but the sight still made him jump. A shadow shifted on the rooftop, and Jack blinked as a pair of bright green eyes bore down on him, Toothless’s chin resting on his front legs. His tail swooshed back and forth idly, dragging along the snow collected on the tiles, and he peered down at the human and the auburn dragon.

 

The auburn dragon lifted his head and met the pair of glowing green, making no noise. But the tip of his tail twitched, and then he parted his mouth to give a quiet little coo to the black dragon. Toothless’s ears twitched upward, and with a low warble, he disappeared from the rooftop.

 

Jack didn’t get a chance to linger further on the conversation between the two dragons before he felt a light nudge against his back, making him start, stumble, and cry out, “Whoa, hey now--!”

 

Bewildered, he gave the auburn dragon an incredulous stare as a confused grin curled on his lips, and his only response was the dragon indicating the doorway with a tilt of his head.

 

“You want me to get inside that badly?” Jack said, grin relaxing. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes teasingly. “That eager to get rid of me, huh?”

 

He laughed when the dragon huffed in his face.

 

He rubbed his palm against the dragon’s nose. “Okay, okay, fine, I’ll get inside. Kinda feelin’ hungry, now that I think about it...” He mumbled. “Well, how about you? You hungry? Gonna follow me inside, too?”

 

The auburn dragon stilled and the grin slipped off of Jack’s face as the dragon pulled back a few steps, leaving Jack’s hand hovering in the cold air. The dragon sat down on his hind legs, drawing his wings in, and remained there.

 

“..You’re not coming in with me,” Jack said, softly. It wasn’t a question.

 

The dragon lowered his head and a low, quiet rumble rolled out of his chest.

 

Just like yesterday afternoon, the dragon was leaving him on the doorsteps of the manor. He would be leaving him on his own with Hiccup. And just like the night before, Jack wished the auburn dragon could be there with him when he met with Hiccup later that night.

 

Caressing his temple, Jack closed his eyes and sighed. The tips of his brown hair brushed against his eyelashes as he asked, “Will I still see you tomorrow?”

 

The auburn dragon blinked.

 

The corner of the dragon’s mouth appeared to curl and his teeth parted to trill gently at Jack, the dragon leaning forward enough to tap the tip of his nose to Jack’s forehead.

 

Jack smiled and closed his eyes.

 

With a final stroke of the dragon’s neck and a promise to see him the next day, Jack let his hand fall away and he stepped onto the doorstep of the manor, pushed at the heavy doors and sucked in a breath in tandem with the groan of the wood on its hinges. He looked over his shoulder in a final glance, observed how the sun setting behind the clouds reflected off of the dragon’s auburn scales, making them beam red like the darkening leaves of an autumn forest, smiled, and closed the doors behind him.

 

The auburn dragon stared at the doors minutes after they were shut, then lifted his head to the sun, and his pupils dilated at its slow descent. His wings unfurled and he lowered onto all fours, his wings casting a shadow beneath him. He leapt off of the snow-laden ground and into the air, flying above and behind the manor where a black dragon with glowing green eyes was waiting.

 

\---

 

In his urge to get out of the manor as soon as possible after breakfast, Jack hadn’t taken much time to explore it itself, and once he stepped through the large, nigh impossibly heavy doors and could hear no sound apart from the crackle of a burning fire, Jack took that peaceful moment to look around. The manor was nothing like the castles he’d imagined being the home of a royal family, but down every hallway he walked, there were tapestries lining the walls depicting scenes of what could be either the histories of Berk or its legends. 

 

One such tapestry had a great tree and in its roots, coiled around each other into nine circular shapes, were stars. Another was of an island on the sea, distant from all other land, with a high mountain and smaller ones hugging against it, and two warriors guarding its shores. Stitched into the fabric were birds and clouds. The sea was green and the sky was a bright blue.

 

When he was a child, his mother told him that the Berkians once lived on an island far beyond the shores of the northwest. And now, Jack wondered.

 

There were more on both sides of him as he walked along the hallways lit by the setting sun and the lanterns stuck to the walls, but though they were of impeccable work and craftsmanship, they began to blur together as he approached what he believed was a sitting room, full of comfortable looking furniture, furs laid out on the cold floors as carpet, and a blazing fireplace that warmed him to the tips of his fingers. 

 

Gently pushing the door open a bit more, Jack poked his head through the doorway and, finding no one else inside, gave a sigh of relief and walked through. The curtains, a dark green color, half-drawn, let natural light flood in while the fire continued to burn, and Jack saw a pair of antlers that once belonged to a large stag stuck to the wall atop the fireplace. It was a spacious enough room and while the colors gave the impression of cold, it was warm and had Jack’s muscles relaxing quicker than he thought possible. He looked around the sitting room, admiring every crevice and felt a childish sense of glee thrum through him.

 

He paused when he saw another tapestry clasped to the wall and stepped forward to get a closer look, narrowing his eyes as he peered at the array of color. In the middle of the tapestry were the sun and the moon, and surrounding them were four orbs with swirls inside them, all different colors. The orb to the right was a luminescent blue and surrounded by mountains. The orb on the bottom was green and waves of an ocean cloistered around it. To the left, a deep brown, trees on all sides of it. At the top was a white circle, and white shapes were spread around it in sharp, angular triangles, jutting against it, with shades of a sea foam green. They looked like shards of ice.

 

The wind creaked against the panes of the window and the swirls within all four orbs surrounding the sun and the moon, stars scattered all across deep blue fabric on the tapestry, had Jack narrowing his eyes in fascination. A hand reached up and, after a short breath and a moment of hesitation, Jack moved to brush his fingers against the fabric, intrigued in particular by the white one--

 

“Oh, there you are.”

 

Brown eyes widening and shoulders jerking, Jack instantly lowered his hand and turned to find Valka in the doorway, her crow’s feet crinkling as she smiled.

 

“I’ve been wondering where you’ve been,” she said, drawing a lock of hair away from her forehead. “Did you just come back inside? I see that your cloak is still on.”

 

“Erm, yeah. I just, got in,” he said lamely. He made a vague gesture towards the room and lowered his eyes to the floor. Digging his heel into the floor, he felt as if he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, even though the queen was smiling and didn’t seem angry. He began to shuffle towards the door as Valka walked further in. “Sorry, I guess I’ll just, head on out--”

 

A thin hand on his shoulder stopped him. “You do not need to go,” Valka said, smiling. “I suppose I should apologize for not properly showing you around the house last night. It’s only natural that you’d be curious, hmm?”

 

The muscles in his shoulders gradually relaxed and Valka lowered her hand.

 

The fire sputtered and crackled and Jack looked at the queen, her green eyes that so resembled her son’s and the red highlight of her hair that the fire gave it.

 

“You have a lot of tapestries around here,” he said duly. He wanted to kick himself for being so unimpressive around the queen, but she didn’t appear to be much affected. If anything, by the curl of her mouth, she seemed more amused than anything else.

 

She laughed. “Oh, indeed, call it a tradition if you will. A way to preserve and pass on our family memory and history.” She strode forward and ran her fingers down the length of the tapestry, delicate and gentle.

 

Jack thought he saw little scars and calluses on her fingers, and frowned thoughtfully. Then, he stepped forward to stand next to the queen as she took a stray piece of lint off of the fabric. He glanced between her and the tapestry.

 

“What is this one supposed to be about?” He asked, soft and hesitant, his hands tucked behind his back in an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty and shyness.

 

Emma would laugh at him if she saw him now. She would tease and wonder if a changeling or a sidhe had replaced her brother with itself. For him to be so shy was not like her older brother at all, not when his voice could carry on for yards when he felt so inclined, or how his laughter made the air stutter around him, and how he made it a personal task to make anyone laugh or smile in whatever way he could. This should not be any different.

 

But it was.

 

Valka was a _queen_ , she rode on the back of a dragon using no saddle, and she was the mother of his intended. Though her smile was kind and her eyes were friendly, there was something about her that.. didn’t necessarily make Jack feel uneasy, but she was intimidating and Jack wasn’t sure how to be around her, similar to how he felt about Stoick. They were meant to be family eventually, but Jack was not sure how to go about seeing the woman as such when he barely knew her son, the one he was going to marry.

 

He didn’t know a lot of things. A fact that was repeatedly becoming all too clear to him.

 

But whether or not Valka was perturbed by Jack’s cautious behavior around her, she made no indication of it, and only beamed at him with her crooked little smile. She turned her attention back to the tapestry.

 

“This one is of the four winds,” she said, “Born between the sun and the moon, all four are needed to maintain the balance of nature. Many legends surround the winds here in Berk.” She looked at him, corner of her mouth curled upward. “We are from sailing folk, and we depend on the wind to tell us which way will lead us home when we’re on the water. A wind will tell us if the sea will be our ally or our enemy, where we can find food. They tell us the changing of the seasons.”

 

Saying not a word, Jack could only look between the queen and the tapestry, captivated by the story of the fabric and the little bits of information she was giving him about Berk, its people, and its culture. Even its stories.

 

His mother knew better than anyone that to tell Jack a story was the best way to hold her son’s attention, and no matter how old he was now, in a place he’d heard so much of but truly knew so little about, it held true to that day.

 

Valka dragged her fingertips along the weaves, a brush of skin against delicate strings.

 

“Some will say that the west wind lays its home far to the west, a place we call the Wilderwest, deep forests even the most adventurous of travelers can never fully know, and that the north wind lives beyond the ice caps, a place man has rarely been. Some even say that all four winds can change their forms to whatever they wish, be it a bird, a moth, a wolf, even a human. Perhaps even a dragon.”

 

\---

 

Toothless blinked his large green eyes and gave a low warble as his rider stumbled over a spare wrench he’d left on the floor, scrambling for his shoes and a pair of pants that weren’t soaked and clinging to his skin from melted snow. The black dragon caught him before he could fall, and gently lowered the human until he was on his knees and safe on the floor.

 

Cursing at the wrench under his breath, he sighed, rubbed a hand down his face and leaned against the dragon. “Thanks, bud,” he whispered. He grinned wryly. “You seem to have a knack for doing that.”

 

Hiccup spluttered and bat at the dragon’s nose half-heartedly when Toothless breathed in his face, complaining about his gods-awful breath. “Freyr almighty, do I have to brush your teeth for you _again_ \--!?” He coughed.

 

Toothless only gave a warbling chuff of laughter.

 

Rolling his eyes, he grumbled as he stood up on somewhat shaky legs and searched around his mess of a room for a dry pair of pants. He shuffled around the bits of metal and machinery he’d taken back from Gobber’s workshop and his sketchbooks to find them, and put them on before looking for a decent pair of boots to wear. Toothless made sure that the curtains were pulled over the windows and that nobody could see through any crevice or cranny that could poke through the room. His rider hopped on one unsteady foot as he shoved his boot on.

 

Once he had them on, he took a series of inhales and exhales before absently brushing at his messy bangs. He ran his fingers through his hair, frowned, and looked at his dragon.

 

“Does it look bad?” He asked, pointing at the wind-whipped strands of hair, some sticking outward in the back.

 

Unknowing and uncaring of human standards of appearance and beauty, Toothless only blinked, raised his head a few inches off of his front legs, and yawned widely, showing off his ivory teeth before laying down again.

 

“Some help _you_ are,” his rider grumbled before messing with his hair again. Pleased with himself, Toothless simply curled his tail around himself and let himself be amused by the sound of Hiccup fretting about his room, muttering to himself under his breath.

 

The first thing he had to do was get rid of his night clothes and find something suitable enough to wear for dinner, then look as if he hadn’t just rolled out of bed. He did eventually find a dark pair of pants, a deep red shirt and a brown leather vest to wear over it, and he walked over to the mirror, the only one he had, to make sure that he looked at least _somewhat_ presentable.

 

He’d never known Jack to care terribly much about appearances, but.. well, he still wanted to at least make the effort, even if the other male wouldn’t be impressed by it.

 

When he stood in front of it to attempt to flatten down his hair, he looked at the glass, really looked at it, and paused.

 

Sensing a shift in the air, Toothless’s green eyes flickered open and he looked at his rider, only to find Hiccup looking at the mirror and trailing his fingertips along the skin of his cheeks and his jaw. The movements were slow and lingering, and he was biting down on his bottom lip as he frowned. In the reflective glass, his eyes were tired and heavy, and Toothless could smell the despondency from his rider, like the growing cloud of a thunderstorm.

 

Hiccup’s fingers rose to his temple and stroked along the line of his eyebrows to the side of his head, pausing there, and a shuddering breath left him.

 

A soft warble and a coo rumbled out of Toothless’s throat and the black dragon stood up to stand next to his rider, pressing against the human’s side and nudging his arm with his head. Pulled out of his thoughts, Hiccup blinked and looked down at the dragon, and his eyes crinkled as a little smile grew on his lips. He lowered his hands. Toothless’s eyes closed and he gave a gentle purr as his rider ran his callused palm along the crown of his head.

 

“I’ll be okay, Toothless,” he said softly. Toothless trilled, not convinced by the sadness he could still smell in the human’s smile, but Hiccup continued stroking at his scales. The dragon closed his eyes and rumbled deep in his chest, pressing his side closer against his rider, and Hiccup let his arm wrap around the dragon’s neck in a one-armed hug. The warmth pulsating beneath the smooth black scales made him smile, but when Hiccup looked at his reflection and met his own pair of green eyes, he frowned.

 

Once he and Toothless had enough of their little bout of comforting affection, Hiccup pat the dust off of his clothes and went to his nightstand. He glared down at the wood and took the leather between his fingers. He gripped at the mask, the material dipping underneath the force of his hold before he relaxed and gave another deep sigh.

 

Toothless slunk across the floor and watched as Hiccup pulled his bangs back to put the mask on his face, clasping it together at the back of his head, obscured by his shaggy locks of hair. Once it was secure, he sighed and scratched the back of his head. The dragon gave a curious warble and tilted his head as the prince muttered to himself, “Okay, okay, I can definitely do this, it’s just dinner, right? Dinner with the man I’m... gonna marry _oh dear Odin--_ ”

 

If he could, Toothless would roll his eyes. As it was, the dragon settled for pushing the prince out the door by using his snout against the human’s back, making him stumble forward and splutter, “ _Toothless-!_ ”

 

\---

 

While Jack still found Valka to be quite imposing and a bit intimidating, talking to her more and asking her questions about the stories behind the tapestries made it easier to be around her, and Jack eventually found himself not quite so skittish. She was kind, patient, and apparently eager to tell the stories of Berk, the dragons, and the beliefs they held. There was also a spark of definite intelligence in her green eyes that Jack found both impressive and familiar.

 

When she smiled, when the light of the lanterns hit the brown-auburn color of her hair, she looked strikingly like Hiccup.

 

What little he’d seen of the prince.

 

Jack wasn’t sure what to think about that piece of knowledge, but it made something in his chest tighten.

 

They talked for a couple of hours and Jack gradually found himself relaxing around the woman and did not notice that the sun had set until she’d stood up, pointed it out, and told him that Stoick would be back soon.

 

“He always comes home after sunset,” she said. Her green eyes were clouded with an emotion Jack couldn’t decipher as she walked to the window and looked at the rising moon and the darkening sky. Unless he was mistaken, it was almost sad.

 

But, as if on command by his wife’s words, Jack’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two doors opening and closing, heavy footsteps, and snow being brushed off of fur, falling to the wooden floor.

 

Valka beamed. “He’s home.”

 

Jack blinked and thought he heard something heavy landing on the roof of the manor, and looked up with furrowed brows. But any curiosities he had were squashed when he heard a deep voice echo between the walls.

 

“Valka? Are you here?”

 

The king’s voice seemed to boom throughout the manor, deep and low, like a kindling fire in the earth, and when the queen called out to him that she was in the sitting room, Jack was reminded just why he was so intimidated by the man when his very shadow consumed him whole. Though his hands were certainly rough, they were amazingly gentle when they grasped Valka’s smaller fingers as they greeted each other. Jack turned away to give them a moment of privacy, feeling like an intruder, and stood up to quietly let himself out.

 

Stoick stopped him with a heavy hand on his shoulder and asked him if he was well. Jack stared up at the king and answered that yes, he was perfectly fine. Sheepish, he apologized for taking off during the day so soon after waking up, feeling shamefaced that he might’ve missed out on... whatever it was that the king and queen might’ve needed of him.

 

But the king’s eyes simply crinkled and he shook his head, saying that it was perfectly all right. “Hiccup said that you might’ve needed some time to yourself today, after everything, so I specifically made no plans that would require your presence.”

 

The hint of a smile on Jack’s face fell into a confused frown. “He did?”

 

Stoick hummed in affirmation. “He asked me to last night, before we all went to bed. I suppose he can understand how you might’ve felt.” His voice lowered into a half-heartedly annoyed murmur to himself, “Given how much that boy always tries to get out of his chief duties...”

 

Valka hid a smile full of laughter behind her hand.

 

Jack was only left utterly bewildered.

 

Even if he could find a meager amount of courage to ask the king himself, Stoick turned back to him and asked if he’d enjoyed his first full day thus far. In response, Jack nodded and said that he had. When asked where he’d been, he mentioned in brief that he spent some time walking around the village, and it would be a lie to say that Jack didn’t feel a little bit of pride at the expression of surprise on the king’s face.

 

“I’m glad to see that you’re getting to know the village better,” he said, the ends of his beard curling upward into a hidden smile.

 

Jack managed a small one in return.

 

Stoick seemed both pleased and resigned at the same time when Jack eventually mentioned that he met Gobber, and said, with what Jack **hoped** was teasing, that he hoped the blacksmith hadn’t given him _too_ much of a hard time.

 

By the time the king and queen took their leave of him, the shadows on the walls were ever dark and thicker, the light of the lanterns dancing on the wood, leaving Jack alone in the sitting room.

 

He felt the churn of hunger low in his stomach, and might’ve asked himself what he was to do for dinner before they left had Valka not interjected first with a smile and a twinkle in her eye that Jack hadn’t yet seen.

 

“My husband and I thought it would be best appropriate for you and our son to get to spend more time together by having dinner with each other,” she said, linking her thin, slender arm through Stoick’s larger, muscular one. He laid his palm flat on her elbow and smiled.

 

At the stunned expression on Jack’s face and the lack of verbal response from the young man, her smile wavered. Jack thought he saw something akin to a sad, resigned disappointment flicker across her face, and his chest tightened.

 

“Unless, of course, you don’t want to. If not, I’ll say so to Hiccup, he’ll understand, I’m sure--”

 

Jack waved a hand to stop her before she could continue, the words coming forth without his thinking about them. “No, no, that’s-- That’s fine. I’ll have dinner with him. It... It sounds like a good idea to me.” He tried for a smile and was relieved to see the queen’s smile flickering back to life. “I mean.. it makes sense, doesn’t it? Considering... everything?”

 

Her smile grew. “It does.”

 

And here he was, once more, pacing about his room and dusting off lint that wasn’t there from his shoulders, his stomach twisting and turning as he blinked into the light of the fire. Not sure when to expect the prince to show up and what would come afterwards, Jack raked his fingers through his hair with a disgruntled groan and dragged them along the sides of his face. His eyes settled on the book that was left on the night table, notes and paper sticking out from between the pages and the weathered, leather bound spine. Sitting down on the bay window, he tucked his legs in and opened the book.

 

It didn’t take long for Jack to become engrossed in the words on the pages.

 

While Jack enjoyed reading, his taste was more inclined towards fantastical stories and tales of faraway lands, less so for collections of essays or notes on the natural things in the world, but this was a book about dragons. Dragons of all breeds, temperament and behaviors, from all over the world, and Jack could not help but be sucked into the pages.

 

Like a starving man, he devoured the pages and let his fingers trace over the fearsome sketches of Monstrous Nightmares, fascinated to learn that they emitted a saliva that allowed them to set themselves on fire, and that King Stoick’s dragon was a Rumblehorn, discovering that the dragon was of the ‘Tracker Class,’ as the book called it, and had one of the keenest senses of smell than any other breed of dragon. There was so much new information jumbled up in Jack’s brain that it was almost overwhelming, but he kept reading all the same.

 

He was just getting into a section of the book going going into great depth about the Striker Class of dragons, purposefully seeking out one dragon in particular, when he heard a firm knock on the door and the shuffle of a pair of feet on the other side.

 

Barely catching the book before it fell out of his grip, Jack blinked rapidly and stood up, holding the book to his chest. He swallowed, exhaled to calm his suddenly racing heart, and furrowed his brows.

 

He set the book down and, his steps slow and hesitant, walked towards the door; it could only be one person.

 

He twisted the knob and pulled, and through the slit in the doorway, he was met with a mop of auburn-brown hair, a face covered with a dark leather mask, and a pair of forest green eyes peering at him.

 

Hiccup smiled. “Hey.”

 

Jack swallowed, feeling a bit winded at the sight of the prince because seeing him now made him all the more real. Made it certain that the night before wasn’t some kind of hallucination.

 

“Hi,” Jack said, airy and uncertain.

 

Silence.

 

Hiccup just kept smiling and Jack looked to the tip of his boots, digging his toe into the wooden boards. The back of his neck felt hot and though he’d been stewing with questions about the prince all day, he suddenly could not find any words at all. He wanted to bury his face in his hands and groan like a child.

 

Really? ‘ _Hi_ ’? Was that really all he could say?

 

It brought back vivid memories of the night before and Jack felt a sudden wave of kinship with Hiccup out of a mutual first and secondhand embarrassment.

 

The prince picked up on the tense, slightly awkward atmosphere between them and his smile fell. Hiccup looked to the side and though he couldn’t see him, he could practically _feel_ Toothless’s imitation of a shrug.

 

Useless reptile.

 

Hiccup cleared his throat and took a few steps back. When Jack looked up at him from underneath his bangs, he smiled and tucked his hands behind the small of his back.

 

“You hungry, yet?”

 

“A bit,” Jack admitted after a small pause.

 

Hiccup’s grin widened.

 

It took a couple flights of stairs in a part of the manor Jack had yet to explore before he and the prince were sitting down in a modestly sized dining room in the west wing, curtains drawn and the slivers of the moon beaming through the glass, stars glittering in the clearing sky. Food was already set down on the table, plenty for the pair of them to eat, and Toothless was curled up in a corner of the room, his body melting into the shadows in a warm presence. It was small, intimate, but not to the point of leaving Jack feeling claustrophobic and uncomfortable. The presence of the moon beyond the window was a comfort and there was enough distance between himself and Hiccup that he didn’t feel overwhelmed, but not too much to make him feel unwelcome either.

 

It was.. nice.

 

But neither were quite sure how to begin conversation after their initial meeting. The only noise that filled the room at first was the sound of metal utensils against plates and Toothless’s quiet breathing.

 

Hiccup broke ice first, and he asked gently, “How’d you enjoy your first full day?”

 

Jack stopped picking at his food and looked up at the prince. Bright, deep green peered at him from underneath messy bangs. He looked back down at his hands and rubbed them together. “It. It was good,” he said finally.

 

The corner of Hiccup’s lips quirked upwards and Jack leaned back in his chair, back still slightly rigid, but less tense.

 

“I’m glad,” Hiccup said, smiling.

 

He didn’t press further, but he crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. Jack wondered if his brows were tilted upwards on his forehead, much like an eager child who wanted to hear the rest of his story.

 

Hiccup let him decide whether or not to continue, and after a beat, Jack responded. He fiddled with his fingers resting in his lap. “I walked around the village for most of the day, and I met Gobber.”

 

The subtle widening of Hiccup’s stare, a slight pull on the lines of his eyes from beneath his mask gave the impression of the other male raising his eyebrows, but the smile was still present. Hiccup rubbed a thumb against a knuckle, pursed his lips and lowered his eyes before raising them again.

 

“How’d you like him?” He asked, more quietly.

 

He almost sounded _nervous_. Hopeful.

 

Jack blinked.

 

..Interesting.

 

Thoughtful, Jack briefly looked away and scratched at the tip of his nose. “Well,” he started. “Aside from the intimidating hammer he was wearing for a right hand, the sharp looking horned helmet, and the general appearance of grumpiness and sarcasm, he was nice enough.”

 

Hiccup blinked slowly at the sardonic tone of the other male’s voice, and Jack was just about to worry that he might’ve pushed a bit too far with his usual humor when he heard a sudden snort.

 

The prince grinned into the back of his hand and laughed, his shoulders shaking with each passing breath. His smile was wry and his eyes flickered with an amusement that had a smile twitching on Jack’s lips.

 

“Sounds like him, all right,” Hiccup said dryly, tinged with humor. “Wouldn’t be Gobber if he wasn’t threatening to ship Grump off to some faraway island or throwing his sarcasm all over the place. He may seem really grumpy, but really, he’s got a soft heart deep down.”

 

A pause.

 

“Really, really deep down,” he drawled.

 

Jack snorted a laugh and the prince’s green eyes lit up, widening slightly at the sound. Jack missed how the other male sat up a bit straighter in his seat before leaning a tad forward, as if eager.

 

“I could tell,” Jack said. “He seems like a real charmer.”

 

“As long as he doesn’t start throwing a bunch of his tools at you or make you start polishing his prosthetics as punishment for not coming into work on time, he _can_ be,” Hiccup replied with a roll of his eyes. He was smiling. “Don’t worry, though; he won’t make you start working for him until you want to. _If_ you do, that is.”

 

Jack hummed in thought. “Hold that thought for a while, I’ll have to think on that one for a bit. He’s kinda.. intense.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and hid a frown.

 

The lines around Hiccup’s eyes softened and he leaned back some, glancing down at his hands. He rubbed them together and murmured, “Yeah, well.” He looked up and gave a wry grin. “We’re vikings. Intense is kinda what we do, I guess.” A beat. “Well, majority of us, anyway,” he laughed, and there was self-deprecation in it.

 

Jack was inclined to disagree, and it wasn’t because Hiccup was intimidating like Gobber was with his sheer size and gruff nature. He was tall, but not bulky like the blacksmith, and the other male’s personality thus far wasn’t as overpowering as Stoick’s, nor as bombastic as Gobber’s; but he was a _prince_. 

 

The very notion of his status, his green eyes and the **feeling** behind them were what was intense about him.

 

Jack wasn’t ready to say that, though. Not in front of Hiccup.

 

Instead, he looked down, pursed his lips, then glanced at him. “Gobber... he said that you work with him at night, that you’ve worked for him for a long time.”

 

Hiccup blinked. He glanced to the side, his lips pressing together in thought. Then, a half-grin full of humor spread on his face. “I have. I’ve been his apprentice since I was little. My dad thought it was the best way for me to stop spreading destruction wherever I went, so, I got dumped on Gobber to keep me occupied and inside where I didn’t set everything on fire.”

 

The prince shrugged his shoulders casually and spoke with such a dry tone that Jack couldn’t tell if he was joking or actually serious. There was a smile on his lips, but it was slightly strained, so Jack guessed it had to be a mix of both.

 

A wide-eyed, flabbergasted expression was on Jack’s face and Hiccup’s smile softened.

 

“I like working for Gobber, though, he’s.. like an uncle to me, really. Might as well be, even though we aren’t related. He gets me in a lot of ways, and he taught me a bunch of stuff.”

 

The prince looked over his shoulder at the sleeping black dragon, and his smile was so fond Jack had to follow his gaze. It fell on the red tail-fin. Jack’s brows furrowed.

 

“..Did you build that?” He asked softly.

 

Hiccup looked up at him, and his eyes were slightly squinted, confused. “Build what?”

 

Jack looked towards Toothless. “That tail-fin. It’s a prosthetic isn’t it?”

 

The smile on Hiccup’s lips fell and he looked towards Toothless, whose eyes began to slit open. The dragon lifted his head and sniffed, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Toothless tilted his head, blinking at his rider and gave a curious croon.

 

Hiccup smiled, and Jack saw a hint of sadness and what he thought was guilt.

 

“Yeah, it’s a prosthetic, and I built it. About five years ago, he got shot down and he lost part of his tail-fin. Without it, he wasn’t able to fly, and once he let me near him, I started drawing out plans to build one for him. Made a bunch of prototypes until we found one that worked and fit him correctly.”

 

He rested his chin in his hand, fingernails scratching at his cheek, and there was a bitter twist to the prince’s mouth. His voice was soft and heavily laden with something that Jack couldn’t quite decipher, but he could hear the story within it. One that Hiccup was holding back from saying out loud.

 

Jack watched as Toothless slowly crept towards the prince and laid his large head in his lap, a soft rumble filling the air. Watching how the dragon’s eyes looked at Hiccup and the prince’s fingers scratched behind Toothless’s ear-fins, Jack felt as if he was intruding on something he wasn’t a part of, something the other male was willfully keeping him out of. And Jack was quickly growing tired of it.

 

“Do you know _who_ shot him down?”

 

He saw the prince’s shoulders stiffening. “Yes, I do,” he said in an almost-whisper. He didn’t look at him.

 

Jack didn’t reply and looked down at the table, trailing his fingers lightly against the wood with a frown on his lips. He could feel the tension in the air settle between them and Jack quickly realized that he was treading on sensitive territory with the prince. He wasn’t sure that the other male would be willing to share because there was something behind those words that told Jack it wasn’t that simple, just by how quiet his voice was, almost shaky, his refusal to look at Jack, and the concerned crease of the dragon’s mouth.

 

While Jack was frustrated by the lack of information from the other male, getting angry at him again wasn’t going to solve anything between them. Not when things were already so fragile and tenuous; curious as he was, Jack knew when not to push.

 

I’m here, he thought, lips pursed tightly together. I might as well try to make things work between us, shouldn’t I?

  
That’d be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it? And if Hiccup wasn’t ready to talk about it.. well..

 

He cleared his throat, and Hiccup blinked, broken out of his self-induced spell and then looked at him.

 

Jack managed a small smile, and he held back a sigh of relief when the other male’s shoulders sagged with a lessening tension.

 

“I was wondering who all of those drawings belonged to,” he said.

 

Hiccup sat up straighter in his seat and, satisfied that his rider seemed to be in a better state of mind than before, Toothless slid his head off of Hiccup’s lap to return to his warm, shadowy corner.

 

“You, um, saw those?” He asked, his voice a slightly higher pitch that made Jack’s smile widen into a little grin. The tips of his ears were flushed pink and his eyes were slightly widened.

 

“Just a few,” Jack said. “They were on Gobber’s work table, but he didn’t seem too interested in them at the time, so I figured that they weren’t his, and he did mention that you work for him sometimes..”

 

He missed the relieved exhale from Hiccup and continued, his smile dipping somewhat.

 

“Why do you only work for him at night?”

 

He saw Hiccup’s jaw tighten and the purse of his full lips. A sliver of white poked through as Hiccup bit down on his bottom lip, trying to think of what to say to Jack.

 

“I’m not around during the day, so the only time I _can_ work for him is at night,” he said, his voice careful and controlled.

 

Jack’s eyes narrowed and the back of his neck prickled with growing ire.

 

“Is that why you said what you did last night? That you’d see me tonight?”

 

Wordless, Hiccup nodded. His shoulders were stiff and his jaw was tight. Jack couldn’t read the expression hidden behind the mask.

 

Jack studied it, but the mask was a barrier and he could not find anything within the other male’s eyes that would tell him what the prince was thinking.

 

“..When will I see you next?” He asked, voice soft.

 

The corners of Hiccup’s lips curled upwards, but Jack couldn’t describe the half-smile as happy.

 

“Tomorrow night,” he said.

 

He didn’t elaborate and Jack’s swirl of curiosity and frustration churned further, and it was difficult to not roll his eyes at the other male or say something sharp-tongued that he might regret later. It was only the dulled expression and the sad turn of Hiccup’s mouth that kept him from prying further; they made something in his chest tighten and constrict, and the prince’s words from the night before echoed in his ears.

 

He held back a sigh. “Okay.”

 

He wasn’t happy with it, but he supposed that he should be contented that there would at least be a sort of routine between himself and the prince, that his entire purpose for accepting his proposal wasn’t utterly useless. He would just have to make the best of it, and at least Hiccup looked apologetic about it. Even if the sad twist of his mouth made Jack want to squirm in slight discomfort, frown on his lips. He didn’t like that expression; Jack didn’t like seeing people sad in general, but..

 

Jack remembered the look on Hiccup’s face the night before when he’d tried to get the prince to take the mask off. The expression Hiccup was wearing now was an echo of that same expression.

 

At his response, Hiccup blinked, and after a held beat, his smile grew.

 

No more words were shared between them and in silence, they ate the rest of their food. Once both were finished, Hiccup collected the dishes before Jack could protest and get them himself. Toothless blinked awake and stretched out, expanding his wings and nearly swatting the prince in the back of his head, to which Hiccup gave a light flick to the dragon’s nose. Jack grinned to himself at the affronted warble from the black dragon and the snort of amusement from the prince, but as Hiccup stood beside Toothless, he frowned.

 

It couldn’t be that late. He wasn’t even close to being tired, yet.

 

“Leaving already?” He asked, tone light. Deceptive.

 

Green eyes underneath auburn bangs glanced towards him. Hiccup grinned. “Oh, no, not yet.” Then, he frowned, a flicker of vulnerability visible in his eyes. “Unless you want me to..?”

 

“ _No_ ,” he said quickly. He felt the back of his neck flush and the tip of his nose turned a bit pink. “Um, no, you don’t need to leave. Unless you’ve got somewhere else to be, I guess.”

 

He rubbed the back of his head and looked down at the floor.

 

“Well,” Hiccup started. “There _was_ something I wanted to show you first.”

 

Blinking, Jack looked up and furrowed his brows.

 

Hiccup grinned.

 

\---

 

Toothless got there first, and his tail dragged against the snow collected on the roof with lazy relaxation, having crawled out the window and scaled the walls outside. Hiccup took Jack through a much safer route; up a set of old wooden stairs that led towards the attic and a large glass window that Hiccup pushed open.

 

The cold air rushed into the chilly attic and Jack squinted, blinking the chill out of his eyes. He rubbed at them with the back of his hand and strode forward, led by his own curiosity when the prince stepped outside the window. He paused before the window frame, and Hiccup simply waited. The prince began to extend his hand, thought twice, and then pulled it back before Jack could accept it.

 

Jack frowned.

 

Nonplussed, Hiccup took another step and smiled over his shoulder at Jack. “Don’t worry, the roof is flat over here.”

 

Jack raised an eyebrow and gave the prince a sardonic half-grin, but he shrugged and lifted a foot over the windowsill. He pushed his weight up until his feet were grounded on solid surface and walked carefully along the flat tiles of the snow-covered roof, drawing his cloak closer; Hiccup told him that he would need it.

 

He understood why at the blast of cold on his face when he stepped out, the snow crunching underneath his boots, but his feet were steady and sure on the rooftop. Not so much Hiccup; he stumbled a couple times, nearly sliding along the tiles. Jack decided to be kind and held back a snort of laughter through his nose.

 

Hiccup found his footing and his green eyes practically gleamed in the gray-blue darkness of Berk at night. The prince smiled, and he nudged his head towards the horizon. Confused but intrigued, Jack followed his gaze.

 

Brown eyes widening, his mouth parted and he sucked in a breath.

 

A smile soft, quiet and warm on his lips, Hiccup closed his eyes and sat down on the rooftop, palm falling atop Toothless’s head when the dragon settled by his side.

 

It was nothing like the view outside his window. It was **better**.

 

The manor was on the top of the hill and Jack could see the entire sprawl of the village below, the lights on the inside of homes dimmed and dark, a sleepy atmosphere settling over the once bustling roads of Berk. In the air, he could hear the faint trill of resting dragons and saw their vivid colors in the moonlight, sharp contrasts against the gray-white of the snow. They were so much smaller from up high, small enough to make it seem as if Jack could cup them in his palms. Beyond the outskirts of the village were the mountains, peaks deadly and piercing, creating a barrier around Berk. Jack couldn’t imagine anyone being able to walk between the narrow, steep slopes with a destructive purpose. He could see the moon’s reflection on the ocean, and he could smell the salt on the tip of his tongue when the wind brushed against his skin. He thought he could also hear the faint sound of waves crashing against an icy shore.

 

“ _Wow_.”

 

He said it without intending to, voice a wisp in the air, breathless and almost too quiet for himself to hear.

 

“A little different from looking out your window, isn’t it?” Hiccup said, a soft murmur.

 

Jack broke his stare from the sight before him and looked down at the prince, who had one knee tucked against his chest while his other hand lightly stroked the ridges on Toothless’s spine. He was smiling, looking at him with eyes that had a certain light to them. They made the skin on the back of Jack’s neck tingle.

 

“..Why did you show me this?” Jack asked.

 

Slowly, he lowered himself down into a crouch, a foot or two away from Hiccup, drawing his cloak over his arms, the hems brushing against his thighs as he bent down.

 

Lowering his eyes, Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck and gave a quiet laugh. The tips of his ears turned a faint pink.

 

“I guess... I wanted you to see what I see every day.” He shrugged, hand dropping back into his lap. His lips twisted into a wry smile. “And, y’know.. show you my home in my own way.”

 

_Home_.

 

Home, the word echoed in his mind. 

 

Jack thought of the warmth of a shared childhood bedroom, leaping out of the cupboard with a shout and laughing at the shriek of his sister during a game of Hide ‘N Seek, and his mother’s hand on his arm when she showed him how to pull the malicious weeds out of the garden. His chest tightened and his jaw hardened, the tight muscles suddenly hot with the threat of choked back tears and yearning, but he resolved not to show the other male. He chose to admire the sight before him and the quiet calm of Berk under nightfall.

 

“It’s really beautiful at night,” Jack admitted, voice soft as he shifted.

 

About a foot of distance was put between them as Jack sat down next to the prince, tucking his knees in against his chest and resting his chin atop them, an arm wrapped around his shins. But Hiccup still looked at him with widened green eyes, surprised, and he smiled, flashing uneven white teeth that made the back of Jack’s neck feel warm. But the prince made no further move closer towards him.

 

Frowning, Jack looked down at his fingers and fiddled with them. He looked up and found Hiccup staring beyond the slopes of the shadow-covered mountains. The tips of his hair swayed in the wind and brushed against the leather mask.

 

“Yeah, it is,” Hiccup said, a grin forming. “But it doesn’t quite beat really seeing it all from above.”

 

Jack recalled when he first saw Berk on the auburn dragon’s back and smiled. “No, not really, but this has its charm, too. It’s just hard to beat the view when you’re flying.”

 

Hiccup’s grin widened. “I know, there’s just... nothing quite like the feeling of being up that high in the air, the ground so far below you. Makes you feel so..” His hand gestured vaguely as he tried to formulate the words, voice breathless and so full of joy that Jack couldn’t help staring.

 

“Free,” Jack breathed.

 

Hiccup paused, and turned to look at him slowly.

 

Those green eyes bore into him and Jack wanted to hide his face beneath his cloak for blurting the word out and looking like such a fool to the prince. Normally, Jack didn’t care what he said around other people, especially those he wasn’t close to, but this-- this was different. His feelings towards the prince were dubious at best but Hiccup was still a _prince_ and Jack wasn’t and he was sure that such a cliche choice of wording did not make him seem impressive towards him _at all--_

 

“Yeah, that. That sounds about right,” Hiccup said.

 

Jack stared at him and blinked slowly.

 

Green eyes crinkled beneath the brown leather mask as Hiccup smiled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. this chapter has been a long time coming, hasn't it? but hey! some more interaction! plot! foreshadowing! the slightest spark of romance to come!
> 
> this is kind of a transitional chapter but there is plentyyyyy more to come in the next chapters, hope ya'll enjoy! thank you for all of your lovely compliments so far!


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposed to his very first dragon training lesson, Jack learns several important things about Berk's past and his intended's role in it. However slowly, his relationship with the prince who never shows his face begins to grow.

When it was finally too cold for either of them to linger on the roof for much longer, Hiccup brought him back inside and gave Jack a more thorough tour of the manor. He showed Jack where the library was and Jack felt no shame in openly gaping at the stacks of books that lined the walls. The room smelled faintly of salt water and damp paper, and when Jack inquired about the odd, though not unpleasant smell, Hiccup grinned sheepishly and scratched his cheek.

 

“There may or may not have been an ancient library in the middle of the ocean that I may or may not have snuck into and taken books from,” he said.

 

Jack’s eyebrows rose high and his interest piqued as Hiccup’s green eyes flickered with mirth.

 

“Don’t you dare think you can just leave me with that,” Jack said, a hint of sarcasm tainting his words. “There’s a story there and you _are_ telling me one of these days.”

 

Hiccup laughed, and Jack wondered about all of the places that Hiccup could’ve been. Envy, amazement and curiosity intermingled and Jack was left unsure what to make of the faint tingling sensation behind his ears at the sound of Hiccup’s laughter.

 

It made him smile.

 

When Jack asked where Toothless stayed during the night, Hiccup told him that the black dragon slept in his room and Jack was shown the door to it, though he didn’t get to see beyond the doorframe. As he looked at the worn but handsome mahogany, he couldn’t help but wonder which room they would share once they were married.

 

Jack dispelled those thoughts quickly, neck warm and lower stomach twisting with an odd, though not painful, sensation.

 

That wasn’t the end of the tour, much to Jack’s relief, and the prince continued to show him around. Hiccup told him that his parents slept in another wing of the manor and led him downstairs to reveal a large mead hall; official meetings would occasionally take place there, a large circular table sitting in the middle of the room, and Hiccup himself sometimes took part in them. Jack noted that Hiccup didn’t seem particularly pleased sharing that piece of information, his nose crinkling and a downward curl of his mouth present.

 

Jack leaned over slightly, hands clasping together behind his back as he inquired, “Government and town meetings not your thing?” He raised an eyebrow and a slight lilt of teasing entered his tone.

 

Hiccup glanced at him and smiled wryly. “That easy to tell, huh?”

 

Jack shrugged. “Just a bit.”

 

He shared a grin with the prince and he admired the high ceilings and the arches of wood, decorated with beasts twisting around each other in knots and intricate designs.

 

Stoick’s quip about his son trying to avoid chief duties was a tip-off, but it was Hiccup himself that solidified his conclusion; the slight stiffness of his shoulders as he moved about the mead hall, the grim, strained smile that curled on his lips as he looked at the helmets hanging on the wall, the uncertain steps he took. Jack couldn’t properly read his face and his expressions, but the other male’s body movements were so exaggerated and expressive that Jack was quickly realizing that all he had to do was watch the way the other male **moved** to guess what he might be thinking. A pair of eyes, rich green and emotive as they were, could not tell him everything.

 

Jack wanted to ask further, but Hiccup abruptly changed the subject and began to move out of the mead hall. Furrowing his brow, Jack’s lips dipped downwards, but he followed the tip of Toothless’s red tail-fin out the door.

 

By the time Hiccup finished giving him a full-rounded tour of the manor, the nooks and crannies that Jack would need to know so that he wouldn’t get lost or accidentally walk into a room he wasn’t supposed to, Jack’s feet were starting to ache a little from having worn boots all day. He wasn’t used to having his shoes on for so long while inside, but Jack didn’t feel comfortable enough to take them off. It was only because of sheer exhaustion that he took them off and stretched out his toes when Hiccup said he was done showing him around.

 

Hiccup looked down at Jack’s bare feet, skin pale as the rest of himself, and glanced up at Jack.

 

Fidgeting in place and carrying his shoes in one hand, Jack pursed his lips and met the prince’s infuriatingly unreadable stare head on, chin slightly upturned. As if daring the other male to say something.

 

His mother would tell him that he was being terribly rude for not wearing his shoes, but his feet were so sore by that point that he didn’t care.

 

But the prince didn’t seem to mind him being shoeless.

 

Hiccup grinned wryly and narrowed his eyes at Jack in a way that could only be described as teasing. “Shoes not really your thing?”

 

Jack held back a grin and shrugged. “They have a tendency to get in the way. How am I supposed to know how to get around in the dark if I can’t feel where I’m going?”

 

Hiccup laughed, and Jack smiled.

 

Lips curling, Jack raised an eyebrow and asked, “Should I put them back on?”

 

The prince shrugged. “I’ve seen stranger things than someone walking around barefoot, cold as it must be. Let your feet be free.”

 

His smile widened.

 

Neither were sure how late it was in the evening by the time Jack was walking back to his room, the prince trailing on the other side of him, but Jack’s eyelids were starting to feel heavy and the prince seemed strangely anxious; restless, uneasy on his feet, and he kept glancing out the windows at the glow of the moon. Frowning, Jack figured that Hiccup had some important duties to adhere to the next morning, and that he was anxious to get to sleep so he could be well-rested. He should get some rest himself.

 

They’d already come to the front of his door. He hadn’t realized how fast the time had gone.

 

Hiccup stepped back as Jack took hold of the doorknob, hands tucked behind his back.

 

Jack was about to open the door when he paused. Slowly, he turned around and saw the way the prince’s green eyes squinted slightly. His head even cocked to the side, just a slight change in angle.

 

It was an oddly jarring sight, and Jack blinked twice before he parted his lips.

 

“There’s just, one more thing. Before I go to bed,” he said.

 

Hiccup blinked and shifted slightly. “All right..?” He asked, trailing off in question.

 

A short beat of silence passed before Jack finally asked, “What kind of dragon is Toothless?”

 

Green eyes widened, flummoxed. Hiccup didn’t respond right away and, feeling a sudden wave of humiliation at not having gotten far enough in the book to figure it out himself, Jack was ready to tell the prince to forget about his silly question and close the door, hiding his reddening face. But Hiccup beat him to it, and his eyes crinkled behind his mask.

 

“He’s a Night Fury,” Hiccup said. “If you want to read further into it, they’re in the Strike class portion of the book.” His hands fiddled against each other behind his back, and he bit down on his bottom lip. A flash of teeth, slightly crooked and too large. “Have you been reading it?”

 

“I have,” Jack said. “I don’t think I’m even a third into it, though. It’s kinda... dense,” he said duly, scratching lightly at his temple. His smile felt almost sheepish.

 

Since the prince appeared to know all there was about dragons, Jack was reluctant to admit, however indirectly, that it was all rather difficult to keep up with, but Hiccup’s smile only widened. Jack found no condescension in it.

 

“That’s not really surprising; it’s kind of a lot to take in, _believe_ me.” There was humor in his lilt that had Jack narrowing his eyes in curiosity. 

 

The curl of his mouth was almost coy and self-deprecating, as if holding back from revealing some kind of inside joke. 

 

Hiccup’s smile softened, as did the lines around his eyes. “Take your time reading it, though. And..” A hand scratched at his cheek in sudden shyness. “I can show you any notes I make, if you want?”

 

The eagerness in his eyes was palpable and almost contagious, nearly causing Jack’s grin to widen and something in his chest to stutter from just how **endearing** Hiccup’s visible excitement was. Jack didn’t have to be able to see his face in full to take note of how the prince wanted to share any and all possible information about dragons, to talk about the book, and Jack’s nose felt a little warm at the knowledge of Hiccup wanting to spend time with him. 

 

Jack could already see it; there was a passionate spark in Hiccup’s green eyes when dragons were brought up in conversation, and Hiccup wanted to talk to _him_ about them. Something that was so important to him.

 

_Even though he won’t talk to me about the things that_ **_matter_ ** _, such as why he won’t show me his face._

 

Quiet as the thought was, it was bitter and sharp, and had Jack’s smile dipping downwards. The tension returned to his muscles, shoulder blades tightening as he recalled how evasive Hiccup was when he tried to press the prince about why he couldn’t show his face, why he wouldn’t tell him why he couldn’t take the mask off, and why he couldn’t tell him why he hadn’t revealed himself before Jack until last night.

 

It’d been easy to forget about it all as they spent the past few hours together, if only for a little while, but now as the night was growing heavier, the air colder, and the seductive pull of sleep beckoned Jack, he remembered with all the more clarity.

 

Wavering for those short seconds, Jack righted his smile and held it, though tighter than before. He cleared his throat and looked away from the prince, missing the way Hiccup’s eager grin began to falter.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind and let you know, should I want to see them,” he said coolly. Casual and restrained. He held his smile with a tight politeness.

 

“Uh, great,” Hiccup said duly, grin wavering. He forced his lips into a small smile. “That’s great, yeah, let me know whenever you’d like to see them.”

 

Jack hummed quietly and nodded, the firm smile still on his lips. “Well, that’s all I wanted to know. Thanks for telling me,” he said, hand falling on the doorknob of his door. He started to twist it open and there was a flicker of genuine feeling in his smile towards the prince, looking over his shoulder at him.

 

Hiccup rubbed his upper arm and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards into a half-grin. “No need to thank me. If you ever wanna ask me anything about dragons, well, you can go ahead and ask.”

 

Jack nodded and the door creaked open with a low whine as he pushed it, the light from the fireplace dancing on the wood’s reflective surface. “Right, well,” Jack said, stepping through his doorway. “Goodnight.”

 

“..Goodnight, Jack,” Hiccup said after a beat.

 

With a final polite smile, Jack fully stepped into his room and shut the wooden door behind him. The smile fell off of his face in an instant and he pressed his back against the door, leaning against it, and dragged his hands down his face. Rubbing at his temple, bleary, tired brown eyes fell on the inviting blankets of the bed, the warm fire, and the desk by the window. On the surface were sheets of paper, a couple bottles of ink, quills, and charcoal pens.

 

Letting his cloak sit on the back of the chair, Jack took a few sheets in his hand and thought about what he should start writing to Emma.

 

With the door closed, he never saw how Hiccup’s shoulders slumped after the click of the doorknob being set in its lock; how his green eyes dimmed, nor did he hear the little sigh he gave before walking away from the door after a final glance. The wooden floors groaned with each step he took and, passing a window, he looked up at the flare of the moon. He stared at it and then disappeared into the darkness.

 

\---

 

Jack woke up to the crinkle of paper and the smell of ink as he shifted underneath the blankets and sheets. Brown eyes blinked and winced at the piercing sunlight beaming between the spaces of the mostly closed curtains. The warmth of the bed and the little fire still burning in the fireplace was tempting, but Jack disliked the idea of being cooped up in his room all day when he could spend the day exploring Berk again. One day and part of a night still wasn’t enough.

 

Scratching at the back of his mussed up bed hair, Jack frowned down at the unfinished letter he’d started writing the night before. The quill and ink were left on the night table next to the bed. Jack supposed it was pure luck that he managed to put them mostly away before falling asleep. It would’ve been quite unpleasant to wake up with ink all over the sheets, not to mention the poor servants who would’ve had to clean them eventually. A close call.

 

Brows furrowed, Jack slid out of bed and put on his clothes for the day, attention turning back to the letter every so often. There wasn’t much he’d written about yet; only that he was all right, that the flight to Berk went smoothly, the room, the Book of Dragons, and how he’d slept. He hadn’t mentioned Hiccup yet. Jack wasn’t sure **how** to even begin writing about the prince.

  
So, he decided to set the letter aside for the day and went downstairs to have a quick breakfast, go back into town should the king or queen not require anything of him, and hopefully spend the day with the auburn dragon. With a yawn, he stretched out the sleepy kinks in his joints as he descended the stairs and walked through the door to the kitchen. With the heel of his palm, he rubbed at his eyes. And when he blinked them open again--

 

“Mornin’,” Astrid said, smiling into her cup. She finished her drink, then set it down on the table with a clack. Her grin widened at the owlish blink of Jack’s eyes.

 

“Astrid?” He asked, voice hoarsely riddled with the last remnants of sleep. “What’re you doing here?”

 

Her sky blue eyes seemed to widen as she smiled, showing a flash of white teeth. “Oh, just making sure you don’t get bored in this stuffy old castle,” she said with a laugh. She pushed a plate towards him, a piece of bread and lox on it, some warm looking porridge, and milk. “Thought you could use some company, y’know, give you something to do with all of your free time here.”

 

“Um,” He said, slowly pulling apart the bread and squinting down at the lox. They sure ate a lot of fish.. He was probably going to have to get used to that, too, along with everything else. “Thanks, I guess?” He lifted the piece up and bit down, surprised that the salt wasn’t overwhelming. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

 

Astrid’s grin stretched into an excited smirk, her blue eyes glittering as she set her hands on her hips. “Once you’re done with breakfast, I’m taking you down to the arena for dragon training.”

 

\---

 

The arena was quite different with the sun out. Astrid led Jack through the same tunnels and pathways underneath the seats that Valka did when he first arrived, but instead of taking him up into the stands, she led him into the ring. Now that he could actually _see_ the entire structure, it was a lot bigger than he realized. The lanterns high up in the stands were burning low, primarily for warmth instead of sight, and spread all around the arena floor were hurdles, tools, and shields. On one side of the arena, near the gate, was a large chalkboard with numbers written on it, drawings of four different dragons above each set.

 

Unable to hide her grin at Jack’s gaping fascination, she told him that the numbers represented the amount of fiery shots that each dragon species could send out within a limited amount of time.

 

Twisting and turning on his feet as he admired the arena and the ring, glancing over the empty stands and the blue sky above them, Jack couldn’t help the sudden grin of enthusiasm that spread.

 

After she landed down into the arena, Stormfly pecked underneath one of her wings, scratching at an itchy spot and grooming herself. She cooed and warbled happily when Astrid rubbed at the base of her horn, the rider giving her dragon some much required attention, and Jack was content to sit back and simply watch as the pair exchanged affections. 

 

He was left to wonder what dragon training consisted of and would’ve parted his mouth to ask Astrid herself when he heard the sound of cackling coming from above. Startled, Jack took several steps back and stared with wide brown eyes as a large pair of green wings beat, two pairs of slit yellow eyes blinking down at him. He then heard two more pairs of wings beating down from the sky and he blinked, squinting at the glare from the sun.

 

Stormfly blinked, cocked her head and warbled, while Astrid rolled her eyes and huffed an exasperated sigh.

 

“Looks like our lessons start now,” she murmured as Snotlout, the twins, and Fishlegs landed on the arena floor.

 

Jack felt rather out of place as the twins with white-blonde hair bickered amongst themselves, Ruffnut even rapping her knuckles against the back of her twin’s helmet. The resulting smack and echo of the metal just made Tuffnut snicker. Sliding off of Meatlug’s saddle, Fishlegs went over to Astrid and they started talking quietly under their breaths, probably about how the training regimen would be going that day. Snotlout was brushing some bits of still flaming ashes off of his shoulder, grumbling about something while his dragon curled up and yawned widely, showing off impressive rows of teeth. Jack was perfectly content to just sit back to the side and watch, happy to be left unnoticed.

 

But, of course, fate had a habit of having a quiet laugh to herself when it came to Jack’s life.

 

Snotlout’s blue eyes narrowed in on him and he scratched at his chin, sporting a growing beard with thick black hair, still just a stubble (much like Hiccup’s, and Jack had to stop himself from comparing the short, stocky young man’s jawline to the sharp, angular profile of the prince’s face), and he walked towards him, arms crossed.

 

Shoulders seizing, Jack tried for a faux confident grin as the other male appeared to inspect him, like he was a particularly interesting rock he’d found in a stream.

 

Snotlout hummed in thought, his moving away from his napping Monstrous Nightmare catching the attention of the twins, who were now also looking at Jack in critical fascination, sizing him up with their arms also crossed. Fishlegs shot Jack an apologetic look and Astrid rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

 

“So,” Snotlout suddenly said, voice boisterous and loud enough to make Jack’s shoulders jerk a bit.

 

He blinked at the other male, and, unwilling to show just how unnerved he was by the other male’s squinted eyed staring, simply raised his eyebrows at him. A silent gesture for him to continue.

 

“ _You’re_ the guy that Prince Fishbone’s been mooning over all this time?” He asked.

 

Jack stared, perturbed by the casual insult to the prince. His collar felt a little warm. “Um.”

 

(Having stirred awake at the sight of sunlight pouring through the room, green eyes blinked in the beams blaring down from the sky, then widened and clenched shut as a harsh sneeze blew past his nostrils; a high-pitched warble that sent birds squawking and fluttering away in a frenzy as his wings beat on the wind.)

 

Jack scratched at the back of his neck. “Well, if you wanna put it that way, then, sure, yeah, I’m that guy he’s been... ‘mooning’ over,” he said, tone dry as questions rattled off in his mind; what did he mean by _all this time_?

 

Just how long had Hiccup felt this way about him?

 

“Hmph,” Snotlout snorted, taking a step back as he squinted at him again. “Kinda skinny, aren’t ya?”

 

The smile wavered on Jack’s lips as his jaw clenched, feeling the trickles of distaste flow through him at the blunt, rather rude question. “Considering that I’ve lived in the countryside my entire life, yeah, I guess it shows,” he said coolly. Suddenly a bit self-conscious, he drew his cloak closer to his body.

 

“Definitely not my type,” Ruffnut muttered under her breath, chin resting on her knuckles as she gave Jack a once over, eyes narrowing on the skinny hips, his thin legs and slender arms. He had a very lithe frame, lean, some muscles due to manual labor, but not enough for her taste; she liked her men with some meat on them. She ignored the disgusted noise her twin made at her fantasizing about her dream viking hunk, rolling his eyes as he quickly grew tired of the subject at hand.

 

Snotlout didn’t seem offended whatsoever by the subtle bite to Jack’s words, and he simply smirked. “I guess it makes sense for Hiccup to be all over the moon for another guy who’s just as skinny as he is. Least you’re not as short as he used to be,” he added thoughtfully.

 

Jack’s brows drew together in a furrow as he tried to unpack that last bit of information that the other male just gave him; he had a hard time picturing the prince, what with his several inches over him, being shorter than he was now, even shorter than Jack. It was hard to believe.

 

“Right,” he said duly, unsure where this was going. “Um, I’m Jack. Jack Overland, nice to meet you... Uh, Snotlout, was it?”

 

A smirk spread on his lips and he puffed his chest out, smug. “Oh, so you’ve heard of me.”

 

_Does listening to Fishlegs yell at you during the race two nights ago count?_

 

Jack shrugged. “More or less,” he said simply.

 

Astrid flashed a faint smirk and hid a laugh behind the collar of her coat.

  
Shifting his legs slightly on his seat, he continued, “Don’t think I caught your last name.”

 

Snotlout pulled his birches up and placed his fisted hands on his hips, trying to make himself seem taller than he actually was. Jack was positive that if he stood up, he’d have at least half a foot over him.

 

“The full name’s Snorri Jorgensson, known as ‘Snotlout,’” he drawled in a voice that was both proud and, from what Jack could hear, slightly mocking. 

 

The skin on the back of his neck prickled with dislike. “Well,” he started, voice light and cool, “Nice to officially meet you.”

 

Snotlout waved him off, rolling his eyes heavily, as if the very action was the most burdensome task put upon him. “Yeah, yeah, nice to meet you, too and all that polite junk Prince Fishstick keeps telling me to say.”

 

What a charmer.

 

“Right,” Jack said, desperately waiting for this conversation to be over. He figured that once Snotlout introduced himself, that would be all he had to say and would to return to the twins.

 

But apparently, he wasn’t finished.

 

“You’re not from anywhere near here, are you?” He asked, squinting at him.

 

Growing tired of being civil with that _stare_ on him, clearly judging him and making no show of hiding it, Jack pursed his lips and sat up straight. His hands, hidden underneath the cloak, gripped at the fabric of his pants. “No, I’m not,” he said evenly. Subtle, the lines around his eyes tightened as they narrowed. “Does that matter?”

 

Smelling the rising tension between Snotlout and the newcomer, akin to a bloodhound, Tuffnut’s wandering attention fell on the pair a few yards away and he grinned toothily. “ _Oooh_ , this should be good,” he whispered loudly, raising his eyebrows at his twin.

 

Ruffnut squinted at him and followed the direction of his pointing finger, and then she shared a sharklike grin with her brother, snickering with him as they waited, hopeful for a fight between the two young men.

 

Fishlegs frowned nervously, pale blue eyes flickering to Astrid, whose jaw was clenched along with her fists; both knew that Snotlout wouldn’t actually do anything to Jack or say anything too antagonistic to him, but his.. _wonderful_ personality had a tendency to turn others rather prickly towards him, only raising the tension further. Hiccup was able to hold his own perfectly well against his cousin after years of bickering and being made fun of by him, but Jack might not be so equipped to deal with him, not after having just met him

 

Astrid was perfectly ready to interfere and physically pull Snotlout away from Jack, rap the back of his head with his own helmet and haul his ass back to start training for the day. But when a large shadow swallowed her and the other dragon trainers whole in its girth, she blinked and looked up. The shadow shifted and moved and Astrid smiled. The twins groaned in disappointment.

 

Snotlout hadn’t noticed and kept squinting at the other young man. His mouth was in a firm frown and his blue eyes were hard. “Yeah, it kind of does matter, because you’re so obviously from the south and yet Hiccup still picked _you_ over someone from home or nearby.”

 

Stricken, feeling as if he’d just been slapped with cold water, Jack’s shoulders stiffened and he gripped tight at the edges of his seat, muscles rippling with sudden tension. His jaw clenched and he pursed his lips, saying nothing.

 

The way he said ‘ _you_ ,’ confused and suspicious, full of disbelief, echoed in his mind and made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

 

He almost didn’t see the shadow that engulfed part of the ring, but when he did, his brow furrowed in confusion. Snotlout was staring at him still but Jack’s attention was rapidly turning elsewhere when an auburn colored shape descended quietly into the arena, dusts of snow thrown into the air from the dragon’s soft landing.

 

Jack had to bite back a smile when warm and inquisitive green eyes met his.

 

The auburn dragon’s green eyes narrowed at Snotlout and he crouched low, back hunched like a house cat about to pounce on a bird resting on the windowsill, and Jack was trying so hard to muffle his sudden laughter and grin that he almost missed what Snotlout said next. Almost.

 

“Why **you**?”

 

Jack’s spine went rigid and his eyes widened slightly, his chest feeling tight and stomach suddenly cold.

 

The auburn dragon’s eyes flashed.

 

Whatever Snotlout was going to say next, his mouth parted and ready, was interrupted when he heard a huff of a growl coming from behind him and felt teeth grasping the back of his coat. As the ground suddenly fell out from underneath him, he gave a high-pitched squawk while Jack blinked rapidly and looked up, gaping.

 

Jack’s howl of laughter bounced around the ring and snickers and chortles joined him as Snotlout squirmed from his place in the air, his coat between the auburn dragon’s teeth, whom was looking quite grimly satisfied. The dragon did not budge for an instant as the viking tried to wrench himself out of his hold, and when his green eyes fell, half-lidded and bored, Jack’s laughter only grew louder.

 

“ _HEY HEY_ ** _HEY_** _\--!_ What gives, you fat lizard!?” Snotlout screeched, his face starting to turn red out of embarrassment from the laughter around him. He glared at the dull-eyed dragon and tried to kick him in the jaw, to no avail.

 

The dragon only sniffed primly at the slight to his weight. He didn’t let go of the struggling viking.

 

“Put me down, **munch-bucket** \--!”

 

The auburn dragon gave a little shake, bringing the wriggling Snotlout with him, and Jack bit into his fist to keep from ripping his stomach in half from laughter, his abdominals hurting already. It was difficult with the way Snotlout babbled and shouted, trying to get the dragon to let him down.

 

Green, slit eyes narrowed and Snotlout stilled as a low growl rumbled deep in the dragon’s throat, coat still caught between his jaws. He furrowed his brows, confused, and the auburn dragon’s growl grew louder, and he grunted when the dragon gestured his snout towards Jack, jostling him.

 

Eyes narrowing again, Snotlout looked between a very amused Jack and the firm lines around the dragon’s eyes. The dragon growled again, insistent and a little louder, and Snotlout’s eyes widened in realization. Then, they narrowed again.

 

“Are you _kidding_ me--” He hissed.

 

A rumble of affirmation.

 

“What?” He snapped, “Are you not gonna let me down otherwise?”

 

The dragon gave him a half-lidded stare.

 

Teeth clenched, Snotlout looked between Jack, who was trying so very hard not to grin too widely at the sight of a squirming viking in the very calm auburn dragon’s jaws, Hookfang, who was distracted by the birds that flew over the arena, and the auburn dragon. The dragon’s jaw was taut, tight, unyielding.

 

He grit out through his teeth, “I really, really hate you when you’re like this,” low enough that not even Jack could hear.

 

The dragon snorted and gave an almost-roll of his eyes.

 

Jack’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead when Snotlout suddenly groaned loudly in aggravation, and he felt less and less inclined to hide his amusement. They rose even higher when the other male grumbled and twisted (as much as he could) to glare at Jack.

 

“Fine, **_fine_** ,” he muttered, rolling his eyes and exhaling. The expression he gave Jack was grudging as he said, “I, uh. Sorry for prying and being _rude_ \--” He gave a pointed glare towards the dragon, who simply nudged him a little, his tail twitching languidly as he sat. “I won’t do it again. I’ll play nice and all that good stuff.” He rolled his eyes again.

 

Jack held back a snort; maybe he shouldn’t be so inclined to forgive Snotlout, but as amusing as it was to see Snotlout dangling mid-air, he remembered that they all had training to do.

 

“Well,” he said, grinning and crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back. “With that kinda apology, I guess I’ll _have_ to accept it.”

 

Relieved, Snotlout sighed and went slack, while the auburn dragon’s eyes looked down at him curiously.

 

The dragon blinked at him and Jack shot the dragon a warm smile. With a little wink, he nodded.

 

_Let him down_.

 

The corners of the dragon’s mouth curled.

 

And that’s exactly what he did.

 

Regaining his footing, Snotlout stumbled around a bit after the auburn dragon dropped him back onto the ground, an embarrassed flush on his face. Before he left to go stand with the group of trainees, he kicked his heel into the dragon’s side, to which the auburn dragon only yawned, bored.

 

Stifling a laugh, Jack watched as Snotlout rejoined the group and grinned widely at Astrid smacking the dragon rider’s shoulder, saying something he couldn’t hear before she began her duties for dragon training. While they got started, the sound of heavy legs and claws scraping against the floor of the cold arena drew Jack’s attention and his grin softened as the auburn dragon drew close enough for him to press his palm to the dragon’s snout, rubbing at it.

 

“I could’ve handled that on my own, you know,” he said, taking his other hand to hook his thumbs into the dragon’s jaw. Narrowing his eyes teasingly, he gently wriggled the dragon’s jaw, making him croon and blink imploringly at him.

 

The dragon whined lowly and bopped his snout against Jack’s bicep, a barely there touch that had Jack’s softer smile returning. Laughing quietly, he rubbed the underside of the dragon’s jaw. “Thank you,” he murmured.

 

The dragon purred deep in his throat, leaning into the touch as he settled around Jack, the young human moving to sit down on the ground with his back pressing against the auburn dragon’s side. The dragon’s head rested next to his knee and Jack absentmindedly stroked at the ridges on his neck as Astrid began training with the twins, Snotlout and Fishlegs. The air in the ring grew warmer as their dragons practiced their firing shots, testing for strength and distance.

 

Jack sucked in the crisp winter air and relaxed against the dragon’s side, the warmth emitting from his scales protecting him from the cold, and a faint smile full of fascination remained as he watched Fishlegs remind the twins that they needed to give commands at the same time that weren’t conflicting, or else Barf and Belch would just end up hurting themselves or fighting. Even though he couldn’t participate, not even knowing where to start if he could, he absorbed the sight of Meatlug and Hookfang racing, comparing their respective speeds and any improvements they might’ve made, watching with rapt fascination.

 

The auburn dragon’s steady breath and constant warmth was a comfort to Jack, but not enough to keep Snotlout’s words from rattling around in his mind;

 

_Why_ **_you_ ** _?_

 

Frowning, Jack sighed and let his head fall back against the dragon’s side. He heard the dragon grunt and shift slightly, turning his large, draconic head to glance at him, but Jack’s eyes had fallen shut.

 

They opened and looked into the glow of the sunlit sky.

 

_I’ve been asking myself that for days._

 

\---

 

Jack caught on rather quickly that Astrid and Snotlout were the most competitive of the older dragon trainers. While Tuffnut and Ruffnut were more interested in figuring out what more they could set on fire or blow up, Astrid and Snotlout were bursting with so much confidence and self-assuredness in their own abilities that it was almost overwhelming. 

 

Mostly, Jack just found it amusing how often Snotlout tried to show Astrid up. 

 

He also discovered that the twins would watch them bicker with far too rapt attention, as if waiting for some kind of altercation to occur. 

 

That wasn’t to say that Fishlegs wasn’t competitive, because he certainly was, though it was more out of showing Meatlug off than trying to prove his worth, although that could’ve been a factor.

 

Jack liked watching them interact with each other; it reminded him of the groups of children that he would often see playing in the fields back in Burgess, sometimes fighting but making up soon after, playing make-believe, going adventuring in the woods, but not too far from home. It made him smile wistfully and the more he watched, the more he saw the dynamic within the group.

 

But what caught him off-guard were the odd silences that fell on the group of trainers; where Fishlegs would state some kind of fact about a certain type of dragon (generally Gronckles) and look to the side, saying something like “Isn’t that right--” before cutting himself off and continuing on as if nothing had happened. 

 

It wasn’t only Fishlegs, though. 

 

Sometimes, Ruffnut would laugh at something either her twin or Astrid said and begin to say something sardonic, only to quiet. Sometimes, Astrid seemed a little out of place, standing by herself as she tasked them with new exercises, just judging by her body language and how she often looked behind her, as if looking for something. Not always, as she was confident and assured of her own abilities, but it was there on occasion. As if there was an empty space beside her that was normally filled.

 

He couldn’t figure out what it was, but it felt like something within the group was missing. As if there should’ve been someone else with them, leading the training session with Astrid.

 

He had little time to ponder on that oddity when the younger children came rushing through the gates of the arena after lunch, the sun at high noon. Always comfortable around children, he grinned widely and greeted them kindly when they approached him, curious and blunt in their questions. The directness was something Jack appreciated in children, and while most of the children were more interested in the now rather calm dragons belonging to the older dragon riders, some of them stuck around Jack for a few minutes to ask him who he was, where he was from; they’d never seen him before, and strangers did not come to Berk often, one little girl said. Jack’s eyebrows rose, suddenly curious.

 

...Well, given the rough and unwelcoming sharp peaks of the mountains that surrounded Berk, that wasn’t surprising.

 

Jack smiled at Pippa, a little girl with fire red hair, who’d asked him for his name so shyly, and told her, “My name’s Jackson Overland, but you can all call me Jack if you want.” His grin widened. “You wouldn’t recognize me because I’m from somewhere faaar south of here.”

 

Her eyes widened in wonder and more questions came forth, the first one Jack caught being from a pair of twins who kept knocking their shoulders against each other. “Where?” The one named Caleb asked.

 

“A tiny, tiny town called Burgess,” Jack grinned, narrowing his eyes playfully. “If you’ve heard of it, I’d be really impressed!”

 

He felt the auburn dragon begin to stir awake from his nap when a little girl with blonde hair started patting at his nose, giggling and babbling as his green eyes slit open. He blinked lazily at her, the crust of sleep in his eyes leaving as he noticed the crowd they’d assembled. She kept patting his nose and her shrieks of laughter grew louder when he huffed a soft, warm breath through his nose at her face.

 

Jack watched the exchange with a warm smile, laying back fully against the dragon’s side as the group of children finished with their questions and returned to the pseudo-classroom, a small cave-like opening in the wall with a fire blazing in the middle while Fishlegs stood at the front, telling them everything they needed to know about beginning their dragon training. Close enough to hear what he was saying, he gave a small sigh of relief to know that they wouldn’t truly begin training until they were in their early teens; they all seemed far too young to begin using such insane and quick maneuvers such as the ones he’d seen during the Dragon Race.

 

Most, if not all, of the children groaned in disappointment at this, which made Jack huff a laugh under his breath before turning back to the little girl who was trying to climb on the bemused auburn dragon’s back, hanging onto his neck and swinging as she giggled. He kept an eye on her to make sure she didn’t fall off, but the dragon kept his head low to the ground in case she did. Shifting slightly, Jack sat so that he could look at her properly and smile at her. He said hello and his smile widened at how her long blonde bangs hid half of her face.

 

She blinked at him, then grinned toothily. “Hi!”

 

He smiled warmly. “Hello.” Jack tilted his head at her. “What’s your name?”

 

Curled up against the auburn dragon’s front leg, she parted her lips and began to say--

 

“Sophie!”

 

The auburn dragon’s head lifted and tilted in curiosity as a young boy with brown hair came darting over. His green eyes flickered with recognition and his head lowered again while Jack blinked at the boy’s sudden arrival. The boy took a breath to recover from his sudden sprint and the little girl rose from the dragon’s side to latch onto his leg, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Standing upright, the boy huffed and frowned at her, wavering as it was as he lightly pat her yellow locks of hair. 

 

They were brother and sister. He could tell, though they did not look much alike; all Jack had to do was watch them to know. How could he not know when Emma used to cling to his side so similarly when they were younger?

 

A twinge of pain and warmth clenched in his chest, but Jack smiled. 

 

“I’ve been looking for you, you’re missing the lesson!”

 

Sophie mumbled an apology into the fabric of the boy’s cloak and Jack simply watched without a word until the boy turned to look at him, his large brown eyes blinking. His brows furrowed, scrutinizing him until they suddenly widened.

 

Jack nearly slammed his elbow into the dragon’s side when a smile suddenly spread on the boy’s lips and he squeaked out, “ _You!_ You’re that guy from the other night, aren’t you!?”

 

The dragon’s ear-fins fell flat against his skull at the loud noise, sharp and high-pitched, but he blinked curiously at the boy.

 

Jack, wide-eyed and startled, blinked. “Uh, yeah. I’m _that guy_ , I guess.”

 

The boy’s smile seemed to stretch wider, revealing the gaps from which baby teeth once resided. “You’re the one Hiccup’s gonna marry, aren’t you?”

 

The back of his neck felt uncomfortably hot and Jack’s cheeks felt as if they were burning.

 

Jack thought he felt the auburn dragon still underneath him as he sat up straight, cleared his throat, rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the young boy with curious hazel eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m.. that guy.”

 

The boy’s expression brightened and Jack managed a wavering smile for him.

 

Unblinking, slit green eyes remained on Jack’s face, watching the unsteadiness of his smile, the almost-falters and the nervous twitches of his fingers against his neck.

 

The boy parted his mouth, ready to inquire more about something that Jack wasn’t entirely comfortable tackling, much less with a young child he didn’t know, so he quickly jumped in before the boy could ask further. “What’s your name?” He asked lightly, ignoring the pang of guilt he felt about cutting the boy’s obvious curiosity short. Instead, he smiled and it grew wider, more genuine, at the boy’s blink. He titled his head and grinned at Sophie, still latched onto the boy’s side. “I’m guessing this is your sister?”

 

The boy blinked again, and then he smiled as he nodded, his curiosity forgotten, much to Jack’s shameful relief. “I’m Jamie! And yours is..” He squinted, trying to remember. “...Jack! Jack, right?”

 

With a nod, Jack smiled warmly at him.

 

Jamie rattled off questions and while Sophie sat next to Jack, staring up at him with wonder as he talked about Burgess, the auburn dragon’s eyes never left Jack’s face. His head was lowered onto the ground, but though he gave off the picture of a sleeping dragon, his green eyes were sharp and aware, noticing every sad crinkle of Jack’s eyes when he mentioned his sister and his mother.

 

The boy talked to Jack for a few minutes before Astrid was calling him over for another dragon training lesson. Jamie stood up immediately, if a bit reluctantly because he wanted to know more about Jack, but the promise of more lessons about dragons was more than enough to sway his attention. He urged Sophie to come with him and he said goodbye to Jack, who smiled and waved him farewell, for now.

 

Jamie grinned and waved back, and began walking towards the little room in the arena walls where Fishlegs was holding up a large parchment with pictures of saddles and harnesses on it, and basic safety instructions for riding were written on the bottom, which he read aloud to the children. But before he left, holding onto Sophie’s hand, he looked over his shoulder and grinned at Jack.

 

“You’ll probably get your own dragon, too! I can’t wait to get mine...” He sighed wistfully. “Even my mom has one, and I want one just like Hiccup’s! How cool would that be!?”

 

Amused, Jack raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Oh? You want a Night Fury, too?”  


Enthusiastic, Jamie nodded. “Yeah! I mean, they were the dragon no one ever saw, and Mom always said that was the one dragon everyone was most scared of before we started riding them! I was really little then, so I don’t remember it well..” Thoughtful, he frowned, but then he beamed, hazel eyes shining. “But Hiccup was the first one to train and ride a dragon, and a _Night Fury_ at that! Who **wouldn’t** want one?”

 

The auburn dragon stiffened and watched Jack carefully when he suddenly shot up straight, his hands gripping his knees as his eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. “He was _what?_ ” He asked, quicker than he meant to.

 

Jamie blinked at him, confused. Then, slowly, his eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh! You don’t know!” He grinned. “I was too little to remember, but we used to fight and kill dragons. Mom said they were our enemies for years, that no one had ever trained or ridden one before. But Hiccup was the one who changed all of that!”

 

\---

 

Hours before sunset, the children filed out of the ring and towards their parents, to home, several of their parents on the backs of their dragons. Jack watched as whole families flew out of the arena, and he made sure to wave and smile his goodbyes to several children that bid him farewell for the day. Having already grown fond of the pair, Jack spent extra time to say goodbye to Jamie and Sophie, the former wanting to talk to Jack more, and the latter wanting to latch onto the auburn dragon’s neck. Their mother smiled and nodded at him in appreciation before flying away on the back of her Nadder, her children in tow. He watched them fly over the stands, and his smile faded.

 

He felt a slight pressure underneath his palm and the texture of smooth scales against his skin, and he smiled down at the auburn dragon. He ran his fingers over the bridge of his brows and his smile widened at the dragon’s pleased coo, but it fell once more when Astrid, Fishlegs and the others began to file out of the arena.

 

The wind from the dragons beating their wings rustled his hair as the Thorston twins and Snotlout flew out of the ring and Jack watched as the skies began to churn gray. 

 

He glanced at Fishlegs, who was stroking Meatlug’s side. 

 

While he didn’t participate, he’d taken the opportunity to listen in on their lessons and watch as the older dragon riders demonstrated techniques and tips on how to wrangle with and train their dragons. Some more successful than others. As he listened, he tried to gauge for any possible information about what Berk had been like before.

 

Jamie said that they didn’t always ride and train dragons. He said that he’d been too young to remember it, but his mother knew. His mother who rode on the back of a Deadly Nadder with speckled white-gray scales with streaks of brown.

 

They used to kill them. Hiccup was the first to ride one.

 

Jack thought back to two nights before, remembering how Hiccup and Toothless flew together in perfect synchronization, as if cut from the same mold. How the black dragon seemed so in tune with the prince’s emotions and state of being. How the dragon and the prince were, as far as he’d seen, rarely if ever apart.

 

It didn’t make any sense.

 

The auburn dragon stirred from his afternoon nap and cracked his green eyes open to watch Jack stand up and approach Fishlegs before the blond trainer could leave. He lifted his head and the lines around his eyes creased, akin to a furrow, and he began to quietly follow the young human as Fishlegs stopped, turned and greeted Jack with a smile. Meatlug sniffed and inspected the auburn dragon, cooing at him and trilling when he warbled at her in greeting as her rider and Jack made small talk for a minute. Before Jack abruptly changed the subject, frown twisted on his mouth, voice quiet and hushed with his brows furrowed.

 

“What did this ring use to be used for?”

 

Fishlegs’s smile froze and fell.

 

Meatlug gave a soft warble of concern for her dear rider and nudged against his elbow with the tip of her nose, trilling a little coo when he relaxed at her touch.

 

He pat her nose and he gave a strained smile to Jack.

 

“This ring is where we used to train to fight and kill dragons.”

 

Sensing the large figure behind him, Jack’s eyes narrowed and he took a step back as thousands of questions fired off in his mind, far enough for him to feel the auburn dragon’s warm breath from above his head, brushing the tips of his hair. The heat pulsing from the dragon made him feel safe and he could not help but lean against the dragon’s side. The side of the auburn dragon’s wing pressed against his elbow.

 

Fishlegs rubbed his palm against Meatlug’s nose, watching the content fluttering of her yellow eyes.

 

“Those caves in the walls you see here are where we kept dragons that we would practice with, usually captured from attacks.” Fishleg’s voice was suspiciously neutral, unusual and odd compared to its usual enthusiasm and self-assurance. Quiet, soft, and guilty. But his touch on his dragon’s scales was gentle and Jack would have to be a fool to not see the mutual affection between the dragon and her rider, no matter what might have been before.

 

He thought of how closely Toothless stood next to the prince, head tucked underneath Hiccup’s elbow, tail wrapped around the outside of his legs in a protective barrier. He thought of the red tail-fin that adorned the tip, a glare against his black scales.

 

The grip of Jack’s hand on the auburn dragon’s scales tightened. “When.. did it stop?”

 

The smile that curled on Fishleg’s mouth was more genuine, his blue eyes gleaming. “About five years ago, when Hiccup stood in this arena and refused to kill Hookfang.”

 

He looked past Jack’s shoulder as the other male started, his brown eyes widening to a near-comic degree before they narrowed, sparking with a feverish curiosity to know more. Fishlegs saw the pair of slit forest green staring back at him, tail rigid and shoulders tense. Not even the sound of Stormfly’s squawking as Astrid tossed her a chicken bone stirred the auburn dragon. The dragon looked at him and then stared at Jack, watching his face and the firm pursing of his lips.

 

“What?” Jack breathed.

 

Fishlegs’ smile widened into a faint grin at the expression of sheer disbelief on the other male’s face and he huffed a short laugh. “I know,” he said. “You wouldn’t think so by just looking at him.”

 

The auburn dragon’s eyes narrowed and he snorted quietly, giving a small shake of his head as he shot a draconic, withering glare at Fishlegs.

 

If only Jack had seen what Hiccup had looked like when he faced the burning yellow eyes of the Monstrous Nightmare, wings unhooking from the chains above the arena floor that kept the dragon from escaping, smoke billowing off of his body as the flames died on his scales. How small he was, how the helmet he wore almost fell off of his mop of auburn hair before he tossed it away.

 

“But-- How--” Jack struggled to form words that made logical sense, his fingers and hands gesturing wildly as certain things about Hiccup that Astrid had told him before (changing Berk for the better, this ‘thing’ he apparently has with dragons) clicked into place and others only confused him further. “Is that why Toothless--”

 

Fishlegs held a hand up to stop Jack from babbling on, smiling sheepishly. He scratched at the beard beginning to grow on his chin. “I think that’s something you should ask Hiccup yourself; he’ll be able to explain it best.”

 

Jack struggled to keep a scowl from twisting on his mouth.

 

From there, with an apologetic smile and a pointed look towards the auburn dragon, Fishlegs changed the subject and asked Jack if he enjoyed watching them train. Jack admitted, still mulish over the dragon rider dodging his questions, that he did. With a grin, Fishlegs told him that what he saw was only a very small representation of their usual lessons and that he was free to continue watching from then on. He could even join in on training once he felt comfortable enough.

 

It was almost enough for Jack to cease his irritation at information, once again, being withheld from him in the vaguest manner possible. Memories of watching the Berkians train with their dragons, testing their speeds in short races, the children listening in attentive fascination, and Jamie and his little sister distracted him. While Fishlegs could be grating with the sheer amount of information he kept in his brain, Jack absorbed it all.

 

Orange light filtered through the white and gray clouds, shining a bright white-yellow on the cold ocean as the sun lowered. Astrid had already left, sharing an exchange of glances with the auburn dragon, and Fishlegs blinked when the dragon lifted his head and trilled. His eyes widened slightly in comprehension, and he made quick work of telling Jack that it was time for him to go home and feed Meatlug (and her babies). 

 

He beamed at Jack, pulling himself up onto his saddle. “Maybe you’ll wind up training with us once you get your own dragon.”

 

Jack’s smile froze and nearly faltered, hand reaching back instinctively to place his palm against the auburn dragon’s warm scales. Instead, he continued to grin at the other male and shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno, maybe I will. We’ll just have to see.”

 

As Fishlegs waved him goodbye for the day and took off on Meatlug, his smile fell and he rubbed his thumb against a single scale.

 

It was difficult. Picturing himself having a dragon of his own when, really, he already had one. Maybe not in the way Astrid, Fishlegs, and even Hiccup did, but..

 

Shifting on his feet, Jack met blinking green eyes and smiled as he rubbed the dragon’s snout. His smile widened into a grin as he felt the auburn dragon purr, the scales pulsing underneath his touch, and Jack watched his eyes flutter shut.

 

What he had with the auburn dragon was more than enough.

 

Why would he need another dragon when he already had one?

 

He stayed in the arena for a while after Astrid and the others left. The bustle of Berk during the day had quieted, and the only noise Jack could hear was the sound of the auburn dragon’s breathing and the wind that whistled through the empty ring. Getting ready to take off, the dragon stretched and Jack looked around the entirety of the arena, turning around on his heels, and tried to imagine dragons being held behind the gates of the caves within the walls, the smell of ash and the heat of their fires burning down the wooden houses built on the mountainous soil. He thought of a viking fighting a dragon, shield strapped to their arm, axe in hand, staring down burning yellow eyes.

 

Jack thought of the auburn dragon being one made to fight and returned to his side, banishing the images from his mind as he stroked the dragon’s side. The auburn dragon gave a soft warble of concern, and Jack smiled warmly when the dragon gave a light tap to his forehead with his snout.

 

With a soft, content sigh, Jack looked up at the setting sun. A wry smile curled on his lips and he raised an eyebrow at the dragon. “Well, seems like it’s time to go, huh?” He grinned, narrowing his eyes. “I saw you getting a little bit restless there, too. I guess it’s bedtime for you, then.”

 

The auburn dragon whuffed, and Jack laughed.

 

He was taken by pleasant surprise when the dragon lowered himself close to the ground, low enough for Jack to climb on his back. After a beat, Jack’s brown eyes lit up in comprehension and glimmered with excitement as he gingerly lifted himself up onto the dragon’s back, sitting himself down on his shoulders, just above the joints of the dragon’s wings and tried to settle himself down comfortably on the dragon’s hard scales. There was no saddle this time, and Jack was careful not to lean too close to either of the ridges on the dragon’s spine he was sitting between. 

 

His stomach jittered with excitement. He didn’t care that it wouldn’t be that long of a flight; he still remembered what it felt like to fly high above the clouds on the auburn dragon’s back, and it was a sensation he was longing to feel again.

 

The auburn dragon situated and angled his wings, then glanced at Jack from the corner of his eyes.

 

Lifting his own to meet a pair of green, Jack gave a wide grin and nodded, patting the dragon’s neck.

 

The dragon’s lips curled and with another soft croon, he arched his wings, crouched, and pushed off of the ground.

 

Jack leaned forward to grasp the auburn dragon’s neck, eyes closing as the cold wind bit at his face harshly during the take off. It wasn’t as hard as the first flight to Berk was, but it still made Jack jolt forward a little, causing him to give a startled noise, much to the dragon’s amusement. But when Jack opened his eyes again, they were airborne, and the village of Berk was below them.

 

Sucking in a breath, Jack tilted his head back and drank in the crisp wind and the orange-pink glow of the clouds above them as the auburn dragon flew at a slow, even and smooth pace. No longer afraid of falling off of the dragon’s back due to not having a saddle, the tense muscles in his legs relaxed and he exhaled, brown eyes fluttering as he took in the sight of Berk below him.

 

The flight wasn’t a long one, but Jack still took his time to enjoy the vast colors that lit the clouds as the sun set, the weightlessness of his legs dangling over the sides of the auburn dragon’s neck and shoulders, and the constriction of the dragon’s muscles beneath him with each beat of large, scaled wings.

 

By the time the auburn dragon arrived in front of the manor and dropped low enough to the ground for Jack to clamber off, Jack already missed the feeling of flying. A ten minute flight, so much slower than how the dragon had flown to Berk with him days before, was not enough. If it weren’t for the dragon’s obvious agitation and desire to leave to wherever it was he went when he wasn’t with Jack, he would’ve asked the dragon if they could’ve kept flying just a bit longer.

 

But the sudden desire and urge to request more time flying with the dragon was quelled when, after having gotten off of him, the dragon shook his body out a bit, stretched, and yawned widely, showing off his sharp rows of teeth.

 

Snorting softly at the catlike behavior, Jack reached forward to rub at the dragon’s snout and smiled at the dragon’s soft warble of appreciation.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He said, his smile soft.

 

Green eyes blinked at him and Jack gave a little ‘oh!’ laced with laughter when the auburn dragon tapped his nose with his snout, sniffing quietly in his face.

 

_Of course_.

 

Tapping the dragon’s nose teasingly, Jack gave him a final grin and goodnight, rubbed the dragon’s neck as a promise of their meeting tomorrow, and walked inside. The dragon was left standing outside in the snow, as Jack shut the doors behind him. From behind the thick wood, he heard the sound of wings beating off of the ground and he leaned against the door with a sigh. Frowning, he closed and opened his eyes again to look thoughtfully at the ceiling, thinking of the little nuggets of information Fishlegs and Jamie had given him earlier.

 

With a small huff, he pushed off of the door and reasoned to himself that even though the prince couldn’t tell him why he had to wear a mask at all times, he could at the very least tell his fiance about how the vikings of Berk, once sworn enemies of the dragons, came to train and ride them as friends, pets and companions.

 

Hiccup owed him that much.

 

\---

 

There were colors that Hiccup appeared to gravitate to, Jack noticed as he opened the door to his bedroom at the sound of knuckles rapping against the wood, revealing Hiccup standing in his doorway. Just as he had the night before, a sheepish, almost shy curl to his mouth. He wore a dark brown vest and a deep green, long sleeved shirt with dark colored trousers; of the few times he’d seen Hiccup, Jack noticed that he often seemed to wear greens, dark browns, earthy colors, and on one occasion (the second night), dark reds. The colors meshed well with his auburn brown hair and vibrant shade of his eyes.

 

The leather mask still adorned his face.

 

Partly hidden by the shadows of the lantern lit hallways, Toothless’s bright green eyes blinked at him and as Jack stepped out of the doorway with a civil, polite smile to the prince, he recalled what he’d learned earlier that day.

 

The Night Fury flanked Hiccup’s other side while Jack walked on his left as the prince led him to the same room from the night before so they could have dinner, and at a flash of red in the corner of his eye, Jack glanced behind him to see the prosthetic tail-fin. Brows furrowed, he gave a small frown in its direction before relaxing his face and spared a look towards Hiccup.

 

The prince’s right hand was resting lightly on the dragon’s spine, running the pad of his thumb against the scales with practiced familiarity. Natural, comfortable.

 

Had it always been that way?

 

He wondered.

 

While a bit of awkwardness and tension remained, leaving some long silences that had the muscles in the back of Jack’s neck stiff and caused him to fidget in his seat, unable to meet the other male’s searing stare, it was easy to spark some small talk. Hiccup was more quiet than he had been the past few nights, and Jack wondered with some guilt if it was because of his aloof goodnight to him the night before. As a result, the prince was keeping a polite distance from him, more than usual, but still smiled at him so gently that Jack almost felt bad for his coldness towards the prince, though he still felt righteous in his behavior. 

 

He didn’t want things to become more awkward than they already were, though things had steadily gotten easier between them, so Jack took the first step and told Hiccup that Astrid took him to watch dragon training, and he watched as Hiccup’s green eyes lit up.

 

The prince smiled, showing off his larger than normal front teeth, set down his utensils and leaned forward from his seat, asking him how he liked it. His green eyes were flickering with enthusiasm and sudden excitement, reminding Jack greatly of when he’d told him about the Book of Dragons; if there was any need to begin a conversation with this enigmatic, elusive but strangely kind prince, just start talking about dragons. Got it.

 

Hiccup was also proving to be a good listener; he nodded along and allowed Jack to speak as he retold the events from earlier in the day, interjecting only to ask quick questions and make short comments before quieting. He rolled his eyes and scowled lightly at the mention of Snotlout, giving Jack the impression that he and the other dragon rider didn’t have the best of relationships. He then sighed in exasperation at the mention of the twins and their antics, giving a wry remark to Jack that yes, they were always like that, and no, don’t ever take anything they say at first value and do not accept any kind of gift from them unless he’d like some dragon eggs blowing up in his face.

 

At Jack’s bewildered look, Hiccup grinned sheepishly and scratched a covered cheek. “Long, _long_ story.”

 

Jack gave him a long, lingering stare coupled with a thickly raised eyebrow before slowly moving on; that was another story he was going to dig out of the prince whether Hiccup liked it or not. That, and whatever the story was behind the library in the middle of the ocean had him far too curious for his own good.

 

The prince’s smile was warm as Jack told him about his meeting with Sophie and Jamie, the lines around Jack’s eyes and mouth relaxing as he spoke of the boy’s excitement at meeting him and the prospect of having his own dragon when he was older. There was a certain tenderness to Jack’s tone and his expression as he spoke of the two children, and there was laughter laden in his voice as he told of how Sophie clung onto the auburn dragon, causing the prince to laugh slightly at the mental image.

 

Hiccup rested his chin in his palm as he listened, the smile remaining on his lips with a certain curl to it that Jack would almost call secretive, as if he was holding back a laugh.

 

The other male laughed at Jack’s remark of how Jamie could talk a mile a minute without stopping to breathe, and Jack thought the smile looked quite nice on the prince’s lips.

 

Dinner went by quicker than either realized and it wasn’t long before Jack was laying his utensils flat on the table, leftovers on his plate left untouched, watching in bemused fascination as the prince scratched Toothless underneath his chin. Hiccup’s lips stretched in a wide grin as he playfully cooed at the black dragon before returning his attention to Jack, still listening, giving his full attention as Jack continued.

 

Jack’s little summarization of dragon training began to end and the other male blinked, as if surprised by something Jack had said, and his shoulders began to lessen in tension. When he told Hiccup of how the auburn dragon flew him back to the manor, how odd it felt to ride on his back without a saddle when everyone else on Berk had one for their dragons, the prince’s lips quirked into a smile and he gave a huff of laughter.

 

“Riding on the back of a dragon without having some kind of saddle or seat isn’t exactly the most pleasant flying experience,” he said, lips curling into a grin. “Especially if you have a dragon with a lot of ridges, spikes, or horns along their neck or spine. It also depends on how hard their scales happen to be. It’s for comfort and safety reasons, too.”

 

Wondering how Hiccup could possibly know all of that, Jack’s eyebrows rose in interest. “Got some experience riding dragons without having a saddle?” He asked, feeling his lips twist upwards as his eyes narrowed. He held back a small snort when he saw the tips of Hiccup’s ears color a flushed pink.

 

The prince rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. “Uh, well, something like that,” he said slowly. “Beginner’s mistake and all that.”

 

Toothless’s eyes slit open from his perch on the tips of Hiccup’s boots, glancing up at his rider and giving a ‘whuff’ of affirmation that had Hiccup rolling his eyes and Jack smiling.

 

It began to waver a little as he recalled Jamie’s words, the missing tail-fin replaced by a blood red prosthetic and the odd closeness between the Night Fury and the prince. He remembered the fond touches and affectionate warbles of the dragons and the riders, sharing bonds he never thought could be possible. 

 

Mind racing, Jack managed a small shrug and sat back in his chair, glancing out at the window and the night sky lit by the crescent moon. “Wasn’t too bad,” Jack said lightly. “Though, to be fair, I’ve only ridden without a saddle once, and have only gotten to ride a dragon twice so far.”

 

He felt Hiccup’s eyes on him and Jack continued to look out the window, admiring the clear view of the inky blue darkness of the skyline and the stars that were scattered throughout the night, unable to meet them. When he glanced at the other male, he caught a sliver of a smile.

 

“You’ll get more chances, I’m sure,” he said. Hiccup’s green eyes glittered with secretive mirth, warm, and his gaze lowered to the black dragon at his side, scratching behind an ear fin. The dragon gave a low, appreciative rumble.

 

Jack shifted in his seat to stare at the pair, brown eyes sharp and attentive to just how affectionate and natural the closeness between the dragon and the prince was, as if they were pieces to a puzzle children would play with, fitting together in perfect synchronicity. He remembered with vivid clarity how they flew together during the race nights before; all of the other dragon riders flew their dragons with ease, but Hiccup and Toothless..

 

There was something different about them, something that set them apart.

 

And with the knowledge that Jamie had given him, the little scraps of information he’d received from Fishlegs about Hiccup and his dragon, Jack only grew ever more curious.

 

Swallowing hard, a nervous flutter stirring in his stomach, Jack sat up in his seat and rested his elbows on the table, clearing his throat. “Before he left after training, I heard something pretty amazing from Fishlegs today.”

 

Green eyes flickered towards him, the movements of his fingers coming to a still. “Oh?”

 

Jack almost squinted at the unreadable tone to the prince’s voice, controlled and light as it was, but resisted.

 

“Yeah,” he said, casual lilt betraying none of the anxious twisting of his stomach. “He told me that.. that the people here in Berk used to train to fight and kill dragons, that the dragon training arena used to be where you’d do just that. That you used to be enemies. That--”

 

He stopped to catch his breath for a short beat, and bit down softly on his bottom lip, rolling the skin between his teeth before pursing his mouth. He lowered his eyes to the table and lifted them back to Hiccup’s, meeting the piercing green staring right back at him, unblinking. Jack’s hands clenched and unclenched on the surface of the table.

 

“..That you were the first to ride and train one, that you’re the one.. who stopped it,” he said quietly. He peered at the prince cautiously underneath the tips of his brown bangs, hanging in front of his eyes and brushing against his eyelashes. “Is that true?”

 

With the mask concealing any emotion that might’ve flashed across Hiccup’s face, Jack could only look into those green eyes and wait for some kind of reaction from the prince. Hiccup’s mouth was in a firm line and the forest green of his eyes flickered in conflict with himself. Jack finally exhaled and held another breath as those eyes closed and Hiccup sighed, running a hand through his hair and tilting back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.

 

“Should’ve figured that someone would blab about it, you can barely keep anything private with those guys,” he said dryly. Straightening himself again, his hand returned to stroking the crown of Toothless’s head as the dragon lifted his head to warble in concern at his rider. Those green eyes lifted back to meet Jack’s, and a wry half-grin curled on his lips.

 

“Yeah. It’s true.”

 

Jack’s fingers grasped the edge of the table and his eyes widened and flashed with interest. “ _How_?” He breathed. “I mean-- **I** know that they’d never hurt anyone, but how did--”

 

He was starting to ramble and the prince’s eyes widened, blinking at the sudden onslaught of questions. His lips curled upwards and he laughed, holding up a hand to stop Jack before he started having trouble breathing.

 

“Whoa, whoa, one at a time, okay? Remember to breathe, too,” he said, smiling when the other male quickly clamped his mouth shut.

 

Jack watched with rapt attention as Hiccup lowered his hand. 

 

The prince ran a hand through his hair again, sighed, and looked back down at the dragon who was gradually lifting himself off of the floor to stand up, filling up a good portion of the room with his size. “Looks like I’ve got a lot to explain, bud, huh?” He murmured softly.

 

Toothless blinked at him and gave a soft croon before nudging the tip of his nose against the side of Hiccup’s head, urging him to stand up.

 

Green eyes widened and a thick brown eyebrow rose as the dragon gave another warble, padding his front claws against the floor and blinking at him meaningfully. The dragon parted his mouth and panted, his tongue lolling out and he leaned in closer, still crooning.

 

The prince’s nose scrunched at the sudden smell and he lightly batted the dragon’s head away from his face as he began to stand up. “Okay, okay, I get it! Gods, stop breathing in my face already,” he muttered, coughing a little.

 

Jack stifled a snort of laughter behind his clenched hand as the dragon chuffed in what could only be laughter, plopping down into a sitting position and looking quite satisfied with himself. Smothering it with a cough, he looked up when he heard Hiccup’s chair slide against the wooden floor.

 

“Well, you might wanna grab your cloak and anything else you might need to keep yourself warm. You’re gonna need them,” Hiccup said, blowing out some of the candles.

 

Toothless’s tail wriggled and writhed in excitement and he began to walk out of the room, while Jack’s brow furrowed as he slowly got up from his seat. “Why..?” he asked cautiously.

 

Opening the door, Hiccup looked at him over his shoulder and grinned boyishly.

 

“Because it’s going to be a lot colder up in the air at night than it is during the day.”

 

\---

 

Jack shuffled on his feet as the locks and belts of Toothless’s saddle clicked into place, the leather pieces of Hiccup’s flying suit rubbing against each other audibly as he shifted, murmuring to himself in concentration. Jack ran an absent finger over the rim of the compass in his pocket as the prince made a noise of satisfaction and stood, brushing off the coat of snow that’d collected on his knees.

 

Toothless crooned happily once the flight saddle was firmly strapped around him and Hiccup’s green eyes crinkled behind his flight mask, the helmet he’d put on moments before which protected his masked face from the winter air. Tufts of auburn brown hair curled underneath the bottom rim of the leather and metal.

 

The prince stepped to the side and held his arm out to the saddle, expectant.

 

Jack stared at him and raised an eyebrow, unmoving.

 

The grin underneath the helmet wavered and Hiccup lowered his hand. “Uh,” he said, traces of embarrassment seeping into his tone. “So, do you want me to be in front of you, or..?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Do you want to be in front?”

 

In spite of himself, Jack felt his collar suddenly grow warmer than before at the memory of a chest against his back and arms holding him upright as he dozed in and out of consciousness, alive and safe. Clearing his throat, Jack attempted to play nonchalant and shrugged, ignoring a sudden thrum in his heart. 

 

“You can be in front, he’s your dragon after all,” he said, smoothly as he could, “I figure you’d know what you’re doing more than me.”

 

Hiccup blinked, and gave a short laugh. Behind his helmet, he smiled. “All right, sounds fine to me. Long as that makes you comfortable.”

 

Jack gave a hum of agreement and smiled briefly at the prince, and saw green eyes crinkle at him in return. It fell when Hiccup began to push himself up onto the still Toothless’s back, his lips falling into a curious line as he heard the turn and twisting of metal parts, then a firm click. The prince adjusted himself on his seat and scooted up further up on his saddle than he normally sat, then looked over his shoulder to glance at Jack.

 

A hand was held out to him.

 

The wind’s soft breeze sounded louder in Jack’s ears as he stared at the open hand, unable to move for a beat. He looked up at Hiccup’s concealed face, the moon reflecting off of the dark brown leather and metal of his helmet.

 

The Night Fury was staring at him out of the corner of his eye, studying Jack as he suddenly found the ability in him to move.

 

He took a step forward.

 

Hiccup still hadn’t said where he was taking him, but once the prince told him without direct words that they were going flying, Jack found no reason to protest. In a short period of time, he’d come to enjoy and look forward to flying, ever since he first clambered clumsily onto the auburn dragon’s back. He’d flown only a few times, but he remembered how the cold air above the clouds felt against his skin, in his hair, and how it ran beside him, and the dragon taking him far above the ground.

 

But this was different.

 

He’d flown on the auburn dragon’s back alone, with no one else on the saddle with him. This time, he was going to be sitting with someone else, and the dragon would not be his draconic friend... and this time, he would be more than conscious enough to know who it was he was flying with.

 

With a swallow, Jack sucked in a breath and grasped the open hand offered to him.

 

A strange sensation, the closest word that Jack could articulate it being like was to lightning, ran through him as he realized that this was the first time since truly meeting Hiccup that the prince initiated contact; _asking_ him for his touch.

 

It was an odd feeling that Jack didn’t know how to describe.

 

When Hiccup’s bare palm met the skin of his own hand, Jack was struck by the roughness, the feeling of calluses against his palm, and the sheer **warmth** that emanated from the prince.

 

Jack’s hand felt remarkably cold once Hiccup’s hand slid out of his.

 

With surprising strength, Hiccup helped to pull Jack up onto Toothless’s back, enough so that Jack could settle on the saddle himself, and from there, it was left for Jack to get comfortable in his seat and find some kind of leverage so that he didn’t fall off in the middle of take-off.

 

Hiccup was still as Jack adjusted himself on the saddle, his hands hovering stupidly in the cold air as he tried to find a place to put them. The back of the saddle wouldn’t be stable or comfortable enough, especially once they took off, and there wasn’t enough room in front of him to grasp onto the sides; it was clear that this saddle was initially designed for one person and one person alone.

 

There was only one place he could put his hands.

 

The silence made the twisted knot of anxiety in Hiccup’s stomach twist further, and he started to regret doing this in the first place and making Jack feel so uncomfortable. Jack didn’t even want to sit on the same saddle as him. Of course he didn’t, why would he?

 

He held back a sigh.

 

Maybe this was a bad idea.

 

Behind his helmet, he pursed his lips and bit the bottom one before opening his mouth, beginning with a hesitant murmur, “Hey, if you’re not--”

 

Arms wrapped around his middle and Hiccup stiffened.

 

Clearing his throat, Jack determinedly focused his stare on a particularly pretty looking mountain peak, the skin of his cheeks and neck feeling hot against the cold air. He kept his own hands clasped together against Hiccup’s abdomen, not thinking about the spare inches between his front and Hiccup’s back. 

 

Feeling how stiff the prince was and suddenly unsure of his own actions, Jack cautiously looked at the back of Hiccup’s head.

 

He couldn’t see, but underneath the helmet, Hiccup’s ears were a very bright shade of red. But he did see what might’ve been a dark pink flush against the back of Hiccup’s neck, a little sliver of freckled skin above his collar.

 

Toothless glancing at his rider and curiously rumbling at him broke the silence, and Hiccup blinked and jolted back to reality. Shoulders relaxing, he leaned forward enough to grasp the grips of his saddle, his boots fitting as perfectly into the stirrups as they always did.

 

Arms starting to feel strain from their loose grip around Hiccup’s middle, Jack held his breath and did not let go until he felt Hiccup relax against him.

 

The prince spoke, glancing at him from over his shoulder and Jack heard a smile in his voice, muffled by the helmet.

 

“Ready?”

 

Slit green eyes peered at the two humans on his back and watched them, studying their body language and the emotions seeping off of their respective scents.

 

Jack released his held breath.

 

“..Yeah.”

 

Behind the leather and metal, Hiccup’s uncertain smile widened into a grin.

 

Toothless’s eyes raised to the night sky, clear and crisp, when Hiccup reached forward and pressed his palm against the crown of the dragon’s head.

 

“Okay, bud,” he whispered, “Let’s go.”

 

A low warble being his response, Jack watched in fascination as the Night Fury spread his large, sharp wings and crouched down into his take-off stance. The prosthetic tail-fin twisted and turned and Jack felt tension ripple through Hiccup’s abdomen, the prince leaning forward and bringing Jack with him.

 

A loud click echoed and then, Jack nearly had a case of whiplash when Toothless pushed off of the flat wooden and stone tiles of the roof, angled his wings, and took flight. With a sharp intake of breath and a choked noise at the sudden jolt forward of his body, Jack tightened his grip on Hiccup’s waist and clenched his eyes shut.

 

The wind howled in his ears and if he weren’t holding onto the prince for dear life, he would’ve tucked his cloak closer to himself because Hiccup was right; the air was much, much colder at night when flying above the clouds than during the day.

 

At least he wasn’t soaking wet from nearly drowning.

 

Jack’s grip on the prince’s middle tightened as Toothless angled upwards and he pressed his legs against the sides of the saddle, brown eyes shut tight at the sudden acceleration; riding on Toothless’s back was very different in comparison to the auburn dragon, he quickly discovered. Just by take-off alone, no matter how smooth and practiced, Toothless moved with swift sharpness far more than the auburn dragon. It was a jarring feeling, though the prince appeared to have no such issues.

 

Jack didn’t open his eyes until he felt the Night Fury settle upright as he flew, moving at a slower pace than before, not long after they’d taken flight. He was practically flush against Hiccup’s hard, leather-covered back until he realized that they weren’t going as fast as before, scooting back a couple of inches to leave some space between them whilst still maintaining his steady hold on the prince. He squinted over Hiccup’s shoulder, blinking the cold wind from between his lashes.

 

Brown eyes widening, his breath hitched at the beams of moonlight that fell atop the clouds. Lifting his head, he felt his lips twitch upwards at the bright stars that scattered the night skies, far too many to count or fathom, marking the night in their burning light. The moon’s reflection rippled on the far tides of the sea and he could not recall ever being in such awe of its beauty. With the clouds below him, the wind whipping through his hair, it felt closer than ever, as if he could just reach out his hand and touch it.

 

The moon had always been a comfort to him, lulling him to sleep when his father no longer could and when he was too old for his mother to tell him stories so that he would stop being so restless and allow them all rest. He would think of the family that lived on its surface and the man that smiled down at them every night and be swayed to sleep.

 

No looking out of his window could compare to the sight before him.

 

“ _Wow_ ,” he breathed.

 

Toothless rumbled softly deep in his throat, and behind the mouthpiece of his helmet, a warm smile curled on Hiccup’s lips.

 

The silence was comfortable, filled with the sound of wind underneath and running beside them, and Jack forgot about the closeness of their bodies as he drank in the sight before him. The moon felt so close, as if he could just reach out and touch it, giving the clouds a glow that the gods would be envious of. The stars seemed brighter than ever, and although the air was as cold as Hiccup told him it would be, it settled in his bones comfortably, as if always meant to be there. 

 

The weight of the prince in front of him, the security of having his arms wrapped around Hiccup’s middle and how smoothly Hiccup’s guiding of Toothless’s flying was, left Jack with no fear of just how high above the ground they were.

 

There was nothing to fear. He was safe.

 

If Hiccup noticed Jack scooting just a bit closer, even as his arms loosened their tight hold, he said nothing to indicate so.

 

Jack wasn’t sure how long they flew for. With the slow pace of Toothless’s flying, it felt longer than it probably was, but just as he was hoping to see the lights full of color that he’d heard stories of, the Night Fury began to dip downwards. He heard the click of metal gears turning and felt Hiccup begin leaning forward, in time with his dragon, and Jack’s arms tightened around the other male again as they made their descent.

 

The clouds parted around them with each beat of the dragon’s wings and Jack’s brows furrowed as he saw a flicker of light down below. He narrowed his eyes as they lowered further to the ground, coated with snow, and his gaze fell upon a pond. Snow dusted the banks of the frozen surface and the moon shone brightly on it. The closer they got, the brighter the light became.

 

It was a cove.

 

He never would’ve seen it if they hadn’t been flying towards it. Bare trees surrounded the edges and would’ve obscured it from sight had they been full of leaves, and the snow made the area blend in with their surroundings. There was a significant drop from the forest into the cove, rocks lining the walls and protecting the surrounding edges. Spacious and peaceful. Jack could only imagine what it looked like during the warmer seasons. He could imagine spending his afternoons in such a place. It reminded him of the pond just at the edge of the woods near his home; the same one he and Emma would always skate on during winter and swim in during summer. She would’ve liked it.

 

Chest clenching, the smile wavered on his lips, but he had little time to dwell on his yearnings as Toothless flapped his wings to slow their landing. He heard Hiccup say, ‘easy, easy now, bud’ and saw him lean forward to rub at the dragon’s jaw, a smile in his voice. Snow dusted up all around them and Jack bounced only a little in his seat when Toothless’s feet landed smoothly on the ground.

 

The dragon rumbled and lowered himself down, and Jack heard another tell-tale click and the twisting of the gears at the end of Toothless’s tail. Hiccup shifted in front of him, and Jack let his arms fall away, crossing them against his chest underneath his cloak. Unsure what to do and still not sure what exactly the prince had planned, he sat back and watched as Hiccup swung a leg over the saddle to slide off.

 

Toothless gave his rider a gummy smile and nuzzled against his elbow, the tense muscles in his back relaxing visibly as the prince scratched underneath his chin. After affectionately thanking him, Hiccup took off his helmet and flattened down his helmet mussed hair (Jack stifled a laugh at how _floofy_ it looked).

 

Green eyes fell on him, hesitant and expectant, and Jack glanced away as he hoisted his leg over the side of the saddle and slid off, the snow crunching underneath his boots. He brushed off the snow on his shoulders and took a moment to look around at the cove. When he got a better look, he turned towards Hiccup, who’d finished adjusting his boots, clothing, and set down his helmet on a small boulder.

 

“So..” He started slowly. “Think you could tell me what we’re doing here, or is this, like, some kind of weird, belated courtship thing you’re doing?” Gesturing his hand vaguely, he raised an eyebrow.

 

Not deterred by the sarcasm, Hiccup jolted and felt his cheeks flush underneath the mask. “Wh-What? _No!_ No, that’s, that’s not it at all,” he said, embarrassed laughter leaking through. He rubbed the back of his head as Toothless lowered himself to the ground and curled up, watching the two humans in bemusement.

 

Being suave was, apparently, not one of Hiccup’s specialties, Jack concluded, shrugging. “Then, what are we doing here?” He glanced at the pond, and his voice softened. “..What _is_ this place?”

 

He looked up, and Hiccup was smiling.

 

“This is where I really got to know Toothless.”

 

Toothless purred in content when Hiccup sat down beside him, leaning against the dragon’s warm, black-scaled side comfortably. His fingers were absent and instinctual in their motions as he rubbed the underside of the Night Fury’s jaw.

 

In the short time Jack had known him, he’d never seen Hiccup so relaxed.

 

Jack’s eyes widened and he took a step closer to the pair. “This.. is where you met him?”

 

Hiccup’s smile turned wry. “Not.. exactly.”

 

Jack heard something like shame in the prince’s voice and his eyes narrowed. “..How did you meet?”

 

Hiccup didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked down at his boots and rubbed the fingers of his free hand together.

 

Rumbling softly, Toothless turned his head towards his rider and licked gently at his elbow.

 

Jack’s mother would’ve scolded him for his bluntness, saying it was impolite and improper to ask such personal questions of another person when they were clearly uncomfortable, but Jack thought he was well within his rights to know. Especially considering his relations with the prince.

 

And he simply couldn’t deny his curiosity.

 

As Jack walked towards him, closing some of the distance between them so he could listen properly, Hiccup sighed and looked up at him.

 

“I met Toothless when I shot him down from the skies.”

 

Brown eyes widened and Jack’s breath hitched.

 

“Wh..What?”

 

Hiccup’s smile was sad and full of guilt. He patted the snow a foot or two from him.

 

“You might wanna sit down for this one. It’s kind of a long story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more plot!! foreshadowing!! backstory!! the slowest building romance that ever was!!
> 
> i'm starting to feel like we can expect to see new chapters every two months considering my schedule lately, though now that i'm not so worried about applying to grad school anymore, the schedule might pick up a bit more. might. can't promise anything. but i do promise that the romance picks up after this chapter!
> 
> as always with recent chapters, i need to thank my wonderful beta and best friend, Adrian, for being patient with me with this chapter. thank you so much!!
> 
> and thank you all for reading and sticking with me and this monster for this long. here's to the first chapter of 2016, and future chapters to come.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Histories are told, a letter is sent by a devious little dragon, Jack meets another draconic friend of the enigmatic prince, and hearts beat warm and steady amongst snowfall.

His heart was about to leap into his throat, thrashing wildly in his thin ribcage.

 

The dragon was so small compared to the Monstrous Nightmares that set their houses on fire, the dragons that only warriors as strong as his father could fight and kill, but this one’s scales were so _dark_. No wonder they’d never seen a Night Fury; they could blend into the night sky, and their sharp, quick wings evaded them from sight.

 

Any human, viking or not, would have been terrified of such a dragon.

 

And yet he, the little failure of a kingdom transplanted from their home on the sea to desolate mountains, struggling to rebuild itself, had shot one down. The very first viking to catch a Night Fury and survive. The first to kill one, to bring back its hide.

 

He could’ve done it. There was nothing the injured dragon could’ve done. Tied up in the net he’d shot him down with, there was no escaping the tight rope without being able to spread ihim wings. He was ready to. He had the knife raised.

 

The dragon was helpless.

 

The dragon opened his green eyes and looked at him. They looked into him, through him and Hiccup _saw_.

 

Resignation. Anger. Desperation. Acceptance.

 

_Fear._

 

He looked down at the dragon and did not see a monstrous beast. He did not see the enemy he and his people had been fighting for generations. He did not see a carcass whose heart he would take to his father to show that he too could help bring Berk back to its former state. He saw none of those things.

 

He saw himself.

 

Arms shaking, he lowered them and the knife fell.

 

_I did this._

 

He never could’ve predicted what his willful actions led to.

 

A moment of weakness, proof of his worthlessness as the king’s son and as a warrior, no matter what his mother would say. Too much like her, they would say. Too much of a bleeding heart. He truly was a hiccup, they would say, he was sure. A disgrace, to not protect what little remains of their culture they still possessed, their home and their survival, all that they had left after their old lives had already been stolen from them. All things he was sure they would say.

 

On the bank of a pond, the warm purples and deep reds filtered the sky above the cove, the tree tops reaching their eager hands to the clouds. Warm scales pressed against his palm, and no longer did he care about what they would say.

 

The face of an old enemy became one he could not bear to be without.

 

No, not an enemy.

 

A friend.

 

A friend that he shouldn’t have had, but a friend that showed him what it truly meant to be free; to feel the wind rush against his skin as the sun shone down on him, the back of his neck hot with its warmth, his nose and ears cold from the air far above the clouds. The nicks and cuts on his fingers, the little burns on his arms were all worth the feeling of becoming a single unit, the click of the dragon’s newly built tail-fin a faint echo in the air; the cheat sheet slipped out of his fingers only to find that he no longer needed them.

 

He didn’t need a piece of paper to tell him which way to press down on the prosthetic tail he’d created for the Night Fury.

 

The only thing they needed was trust.

 

After many failures, many prototypes, they were in sync, and they flew together.

 

He shouted in triumph and sheer joy, and the elated dragon lit the sky before them purple with a blast of plasma, turning into a wheel of flames.

 

After a burst of fire and a narrow avoidance of death by wings that wrapped tight around him, shielding him from the heat and flames that belonged to a dying behemoth of a dragon, its song cold, calculating and seductive, he stood before the face of Berk’s prejudice, hatred and fear of dragons, and made the Berkians see the dragons for their beauty, intelligence, and loyalty.

 

Once a dragon’s loyalty was earned, that bond could never be broken.

 

There would be nothing that a dragon would not do for you.

 

When fear and anger no longer permeated the cold, crisp airs of Berk, and the dragons and the people of the kingdom learned to live side by side, building everlasting friendships, rediscovering the world beyond the mountains, peace and hope settled into their hearts and souls.

 

For a centuries long war was over, and now, on the backs of dragons, maybe they could reclaim their lost home, too.

 

Change was not easy, and it was not smooth, but it came and it was simply beautiful to behold.

 

His father found pride in his son who was always a little different, a little odd, and finally saw him for the boy he was; smart-mouthed and so very intelligent, quick-witted and kind-hearted, but bold as the mightiest viking that ever looked Hel in the face and walked out of Niflheim. His mother, just as proud, was grateful that her son could do what she could not find the courage to, that he’d found the solution to the hostility between the dragons and the Berkians she never could’ve imagined on her own. The best she could’ve hoped for was a peaceful separation. Integration had never occurred to her. 

 

They were both so proud of their son and the peace he brought to Berk and the dragons.

 

And for him, hours of toiling away in Gobber’s smithy, sweating under the sweltering heat of fires and burning metals as he tirelessly built a new tail in place of the one he’d taken away from his best friend, brought him the strongest, greatest friendship he could’ve ever asked for.

 

He gave Toothless the ability to fly again and Toothless showed him freedom.

 

He never could’ve asked for anything more.

 

He was happy.

 

For a year, pure bliss and peace filled the halls and streets of Berk as its prince and his dragon flew above the clouds, over the seas, and rode along the sky, unstoppable. It was a peace that he thought would last forever.

 

He was a fool.

 

Her gray eyes flickered with sharp amusement and malicious mirth as she listened to his screams, his throat raw and bleeding, and laughed at the sound of his breaking bones and limbs. A yellow, wolfish glow lit her eyes as she stepped into the shadows and damned him into an unnatural shape when the sun hit his skin.

 

It hurt. It hurt so much.

 

And he didn’t know _why_.

 

That was the worst part; the not knowing.

 

Daytime was unbearable. Night was worse.

 

Those first few months after having his hopes for peace and tranquility, for adventure and discovery dashed were agonizing. He was lost and knew not what to do.

 

If it weren’t for Toothless staying by his side through those painful days and those confusing nights, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve survived, and certainly not for as long as he had. If it weren’t for his best friend, it was all too possible that he would’ve never lived to this day.

 

And he never would’ve met Jack.

 

But.. that was a story for another day.

 

\---

 

Brown eyes were widened to a comic degree. Jack was gaping slightly.

 

Skin flushed and warm underneath the leather of the mask, Hiccup coughed, clearing his throat, and scratched the back of his head. “Well...” he said, throat a little dry after talking for so long, something he’d not done in quite a long time. “That about sums it up.”

 

Jack blinked and sat back, brows furrowed as his brain furiously attempted to catch up to all of the information Hiccup had just given him.

 

Toothless breathed, a soft rumble, his eyes closed as Hiccup stroked at his snout.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiccup watched the shifting of Jack’s expressions with a wary, nervous glance.

 

Sucking in a deep breath, drinking in the calming winter air, Jack exhaled slowly and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, then dragged his fingers through his hair, not bothered by how long they’d been sitting on the shore of the frozen pond.

 

“That’s,” he started. “ **Wow**.” A bubble of laughter left him. No wonder Astrid said that he’d brought so much change to Berk, and for the better; from the way Hiccup described it, the hostility once felt between dragons and the Berkians, Berk seemed like a kingdom Jack would not enjoy living in.

 

And yet... harsh as the land that surrounded Berk was, hidden within the dark, sharp mountains was one of the greatest secrets Jack had ever known.

 

“You know, if I hadn’t seen it all for myself before you told me all of this, I would’ve called you completely out of your mind,” Jack said.

 

The prince snorted. “Yeah, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that,” he muttered, frowning.

 

“I mean,” Jack continued, as if he hadn’t heard. “Only someone utterly mad would approach the dragon they **shot** down. Even _I_ didn’t do that. _I_ don’t have a death wish--”

 

Slit green eyes narrowing, Toothless gave an affronted rumble and Hiccup’s frown deepened. “You sure don’t hold back,” he said dryly, the back of his neck flushed and uncomfortably warm as the other male kept talking. He didn’t enjoy being reminded of his guilty actions, years long past or not.

 

“Any other viking, like you said, would’ve done it,” Jack finished airily.

 

A held pause.

 

“...But you didn’t.”

 

Turning slowly, hesitant green eyes met unreadable brown. Hiccup said nothing.

 

Jack smiled, soft.

 

“That’s... that’s pretty amazing.”

 

Hiccup’s eyes widened and Toothless turned his head slightly, now resting in his rider’s lap, to stare at Jack inquisitively. The prince still hadn’t said anything in response, but his mouth was slightly parted and the shells of his ears were steadily turning red, and not from the cold.

 

Jack’s smile widened into a warm grin, only faltering into a sheepish one when Hiccup kept staring at him so intently, as if awestruck. Ducking his head slightly as his stomach fluttered, Jack scratched the back of his neck and laughed.

 

“Astrid never went into specifics about what it was you did to change Berk for the better, but after what Fishlegs told me, and what you just said, everything you said.. I think I understand now.”

 

Sucking in a breath, he tilted his head back and looked at the sky, staring into the warm glow of the moon.

 

“..For a long time, I thought I was the only one who knew how.. how _good_ dragons were,” he said, eyes crinkling in a smile as he thought of warm, auburn scales. “What gentle creatures they were, and to.. to see a place like Berk.. It’s,” he laughed. “It still doesn’t feel completely real.”

 

A ghost of a smile curled on the prince’s lips and he huffed a quiet snort, the twist of his mouth wry and fond as he stroked along Toothless’s neck, the Night Fury rumbling a low purr.

 

“You’re not the only one,” he murmured.

 

Brown eyes flickered back to the prince, watching the way the dragon leaned into his rider’s touch, how the movement of Hiccup’s fingers was so practiced and full of a genuine affection he’d rarely seen in almost anyone, and especially not towards any animal. The closest he’d seen was how some owners held their cats as they walked through the marketplace of the village, of how some dogs would follow their humans without needing a rope to keep them nearby, trotting behind their heels. But this.. this was no man and his pet, no matter how tame and trained the dragons on Berk were.

 

He’d barely known Hiccup for three days and he could already see it. He saw it the first time he watched them fly together in the race.

 

Like a bud waking up after a long winter, Jack felt a patch of warmth grow in the core of his chest as he watched them.

 

“Hiccup,” he started. “What you’ve helped to create here in Berk.. it’s amazing. I don’t think I have the words to properly describe it. It’s just.. amazing.”

 

Hand stilling, Hiccup looked at Jack with wide green eyes, and Jack could only look back into them and smile.

 

Hiccup looked at him for a full beat, the soft breeze that tangled through the empty branches and Toothless’s quiet breathing the only noise between them, and then he looked away. The prince ducked his head and Jack saw a flash of a smile break across his lips. He heard him laugh, flustered and sheepish as he scratched an exposed part of his cheek, just above his jawline. 

 

“You give me way too much credit,” he said. “Honestly, most of this is because of **him**.”

 

Toothless’s green eyes slit back open and he lifted his head, rumbling contentedly deep in his throat when Hiccup scratched underneath his chin. The dragon blinked slowly at his rider and leaned forward to bump his nose gently against the prince’s masked forehead.

 

Hiccup laughed and he closed his eyes at the touch, his smile warm and soft as he caressed the dragon’s jaw with the utmost care.

 

Jack watched them, and the curl of his mouth softened. “Well..” he said, tucking his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms around them, “He seems pretty amazing, too.”

 

Ear-fins twitching, bright green eyes blinked at him and Toothless tilted his head, crooning curiously at the young man. His lips parted into a gummy smile and he purred, warbling what could only be a cheery ‘ _thank you_.’

 

Laughing, Jack shot the dragon a cheeky wink, a ‘ _you’re welcome_ ,’ and he smiled as the Night Fury returned to resting his head on his rider’s thigh. He swallowed a snort at Hiccup’s grunt at the sudden weight and the roll of his green eyes.

 

Nevertheless, Hiccup returned to lazily stroking Toothless’s scales, leaning back against the dragon’s side as he stared up at the moonlit sky. The prince was smiling. “Yeah.. he really is,” he breathed. “I was so sure he was going to kill me when I let him go that day.. but he just roared in my face.”

 

A pause, then a huff of laughter.

 

“Never thought I’d be so thankful to have my ear drums nearly blown out of my skull.”

 

A sudden chortle bubbled out of Jack’s throat, and when Hiccup’s slightly widened, surprised green eyes fell on him, Jack paid rather close attention to the snow coating the tip of his boots. He ignored how warm his neck felt underneath his cloak. Once his heart suddenly stopped racing and relaxed, Jack exhaled, and glanced at the prince.

 

His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell with each slow breath he took, his hand still absently stroking Toothless’s brow.

 

Jack thought of those fingers drawing pictures in the dirt, of a dragon with green eyes peering over his shoulder to find himself being drawn in the ground, then of the Night Fury taking a branch between his teeth to draw around the human who chose not to hurt him.

 

He frowned and bit at his lower lip, suddenly feeling out of place. “Hiccup..” he said softly.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Why’d you bring me here?”

 

Green eyes opened and his head turned to look at him, eyelids crinkled in confusion.

 

Before Hiccup could ask, Jack continued, sitting up a bit straighter against Toothless’s stomach. “I mean, it’s just--” he gestured wildly as he struggled to find the words, biting down on his lower lip. “This is **your** place, isn’t it? This is where you really got to know him and become-- become _friends_ with him, this was your safe place. It’s so clearly special to the both of you and I guess it was just so you could explain everything to me but--”

 

He had to pause to suck in a breath, and when he continued, his voice grew quieter.

 

“..Why **here?** ”

 

The lines around Hiccup’s mouth softened.

 

When the prince didn’t respond, Jack was ready to take back everything he’d just said and tell the other male to forget it (a feeling he was becoming irritatingly accustomed to around him), when Hiccup finally spoke.

 

“It’s _because_ it’s special to me and Toothless that I brought you here,” he said.

 

Jack stilled, and he cautiously turned to look at him.

 

His breath hitched at the sheer warmth in his dark green eyes.

 

Hiccup’s mouth curled into a small, gentle smile, and Toothless’s green eyes slit open to peer at the both of them, still resting his head contentedly on his rider’s lap.

 

Using his free hand, Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck. “I probably could’ve told you somewhere else but, it wouldn’t have felt right. I wanted to tell you here because... well, you **_get_** it.”

 

Brows furrowed, Jack shifted so that he could better face the prince. “What do you mean?”

 

Hiccup’s smile spread, the emotion in his green eyes unreadable but so very warm.

 

“Because you had the chance to kill a dragon and you chose not to.”

 

Breath caught and brown eyes wide, Jack was left speechless.

 

His mouth opened and closed, then opened again before shutting with a firm click. He pursed his lips as he was left to wonder how Hiccup _knew_. 

 

Who told him? How could he have possibly **known**?

 

Shifting slightly, but not so much that he disturbed Toothless’s resting spot, Hiccup turned to face the other male more easily. His voice was soft but piercingly audible to Jack’s ears even as his heart raced; he wasn’t used to seeing such.. a _warm_ and tender stare sent his way that didn’t belong to his mother or his sister.

 

Hiccup’s smile spread and the lines around his eyes crinkled, hands moving to rest in his lap. He fiddled with his fingers, holding back from reaching for Jack’s; anything to keep them occupied.

 

“I-” Jack breathed. “I just. I **couldn’t**. It wasn’t like I was guilty for shooting him down, it’s just...” He looked down at his hands, frowning. “..I couldn’t just leave him there to _die_.”

 

“Anyone else probably would’ve said that they **did** shoot him down,” Hiccup said, quietly. “Anyone else would’ve killed him and taken his skin or horns home as a trophy. And you didn’t. You let him go.”

 

“So did you!” He retorted, feeling childish. He gestured towards Toothless. “You let _him_ go!”

 

Hiccup shook his head. He was still smiling. “It doesn’t matter. You still did. You still let a dragon go, you set him free instead of trying to kill him or bring him back to your village.. and you even became his friend.”

 

His smile stretched further on his face, eyes crinkling behind his mask and Jack had to look away, staring down at his lap.

 

“..How did you know?” He asked quietly.

 

Hiccup leaned back against the Night Fury and looked up at the sky, still smiling with a curious twist to his smile. “When it comes to dragons, not much really passes by me, and that one is a friend of mine, you could say. I was worried for him when he suddenly disappeared.. but he came home safely.” 

 

Green eyes flickered towards Jack, and he met them cautiously, brown bangs casted over his eyes.

 

The prince’s smile widened, full of warmth.

 

“He came home safe and sound, and that was all thanks to you.”

 

Jack’s cheeks grew warm despite the cold and he looked down at his knees. “Well, like I just said, I wasn’t just gonna leave him there to die,” he said, attempting to sound flippant. “He hadn’t done anything wrong, he wasn’t gonna hurt anyone. He could’ve, but he didn’t. He...”

 

His lips curled into a smile.

 

“Kinda proved everything people used to say about dragons wrong. All of it was _wrong_.”

 

Hiccup laughed and Jack looked at him, finding the prince rubbing the underside of Toothless’s jaw, the Night Fury having lifted his head off of his rider’s lap, purring contentedly.

 

“Yeah,” he grinned. “They have a habit of doing that.”

 

The prince looked at him, and Jack smiled.

 

Hiccup’s smile widened.

 

The beat of silence was comfortable, the air around them not so stifling as the dinner room had been mere hours ago. Toothless was warm and kept them safe from the cold, a barrier of scales against the wind. Now that Jack knew what this place was, the meaning it held for Hiccup, Toothless, and Berk in its entirety, the place where everything began to change, he only found the cove more beautiful.

 

There was also a feeling of satisfaction in now knowing more about this mysterious place he was only told bedtime stories of; how Hiccup met Toothless, how the Berkians became dragon riders, and what life in Berk was truly like.

 

It felt.. good. It felt good to finally have some of his burning questions finally answered by Hiccup himself.

 

But..

 

Biting his lower lip softly, Jack glanced at the other male. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

 

Snotlout’s words from that morning echoed in his mind, loud as a pebble breaking through a surface of ice on a frozen lily pond.

 

_Why_ **_you?_ **

 

“Hiccup..” he murmured. He swallowed. “..Why did you choose me?”

 

The smile on the prince’s lips fell. They pursed and his sharp jaw tightened, the lines around his eyes thicker.

 

Toothless’s ear-fins lowered on his skull and he looked between the two humans. The dragon crooned softly and rested his chin on Hiccup’s shoulder.

 

The prince’s eyes closed as he sucked in a breath, opening as he exhaled, the green of his eyes unreadable in the storm of emotions within them. “It was never a choice,” he said. “It wasn’t something I ever actively decided on, it-- it just _was_.”

 

The corner of Hiccup’s mouth quirked upwards, wry.

 

“Emotions are funny like that, huh?” He laughed. It was a nervous laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at his knee.

 

Smile fading, Hiccup looked up at Jack, his hand falling into his lap.

 

“..Even if there _was_ a choice, I--” He gripped his knee. “I don’t think it would’ve been a difficult one.”

 

Feeling as if his heart had leapt into the back of his throat, beating rapidly, Jack swallowed and tugged at a stray lock of his brown hair, feeling Hiccup’s eyes on his face, so full of warmth but also an anxiousness that could only come from a moment of sincere vulnerability.

 

“But, but you--” He tugged at his hair more harshly. “You barely even know me! I’m not even from anywhere near Berk, I’m not some noble or royal from some far off country, I’m just. Someone from a small village in the middle of nowhere! I’m practically from the sticks!” Frantic hands gestured and brown eyes widened with disbelief. “I’m not--”

 

Jack bit his bottom lip.

 

“I’m not anyone special.”

 

Lips pursed tight, Hiccup stared at him.

 

“...If that isn’t the biggest load of dragon dung I’ve ever heard, I’ll eat my own foot,” Hiccup drawled, tone biting in its deadpan.

 

Toothless narrowed his slit-pupil eyes at him and grunted, affronted.

 

Jack gaped at him. His eyes narrowed as irritation trickled down the back of his neck.

 

_“Excuse me--?”_

 

“I don’t know where you get this idea that you’re somehow not special and all that other junk, but I can tell you right now that that’s ridiculous,” the prince retorted, cutting him off with so much feeling and determination in his firm words that it had Jack clenching his jaw shut again.

 

Unhappy with essentially being cut off, Jack shot the prince a glare, but he remained quiet, waiting for Hiccup to continue. Crossing his arms, he sat up, his back stiff, and stared at him.

 

Hiccup stared back at him, green eyes a storm of emotion before lowering them to his hands. He sighed and ruffled the hair on the back of his head. “Look, I’m-- I’m not good at this whole poetic romantic thing especially not in person and saying it out loud, but..” he sighed, closing his eyes.

 

His voice grew quieter.

 

“...To save a dragon’s life and never reveal its existence to anyone, befriending it, and to be so dedicated to your family that you’d travel to some country you didn’t know existed before..” Green eyes flickered towards Jack.

 

Jack’s breath caught.

 

“I think that’s pretty special.”

 

Silence filtered between the two of them and Jack could find no words to say, and he dumbly felt rather similar to how Hiccup must’ve felt when they met the first time just nights ago; as if his brain had come to a sudden stop and no words could formulate on his tongue, left clueless as to what to do with his hands and his mouth.

 

Being stunned stupid was not a feeling Jack was familiar with.

 

Swallowing, his face beginning to burn with a flush creeping on the back of his neck, Jack tucked his knees in closer and looked down at them. His stomach felt both tight and airy, as if a bird’s wings were fluttering and brushing the edges of its feathers against his insides. It was another feeling Jack found odd and new.

 

A feeling he was left unsure if he disliked.

 

“...Thank you,” he mumbled.

 

Feeling the prince’s eyes on him, but not daring to look at him, Jack felt his flush deepen.

 

“You’re welcome,” Hiccup responded, words a mere whisper in the crisp winter air and the stillness of the cove.

 

Unblinking, Toothless stared at the two quiet humans, and satisfied with the calm if nervous atmosphere between them, lowered his head onto Hiccup’s lap, rumbling a purr in content. He felt Hiccup’s fingers trembling slightly on the crown of his head, only to calm in response to the vibrations in the dragon’s throat.

 

The weight of Hiccup’s words, the story of how he and Toothless met, the changing of Berk and the prince’s unspoken feelings began to sink in, and Jack wasn’t sure what to do with this new knowledge. It was overwhelming, but things began to make more sense now; the closeness between Hiccup and Toothless, why Hiccup was so important to Berk and the way it was now, Hiccup’s passion for dragons and.. perhaps a bit of why he chose Jack, of all people.

 

The prince’s feelings were clear in the letter he’d given Jack when he first proposed to him, but absorbing the dubious emotions of ink on paper was a different beast than hearing them in person. Perhaps not the exact wording, but Jack was not stupid; Hiccup didn’t have to say them directly for Jack to understand the feelings behind the words he _did_ say.

 

He swallowed, and finally lifted his head to look at the prince.

 

Hiccup had finally looked away and he was pinching the bridge of his masked nose, eyes clenched shut, lips pursed. The dragon’s glowing green eyes were open now, and he warbled softly in concern towards his rider, nudging his head against the prince’s hand.

 

Jack thought he heard a mumble of ‘ _stupid, this was stupid_ ’ and other derogative mutterings aimed towards himself.

 

Pressing his lips together, Jack looked at the space between them, the two feet separating them, and shifted.

 

A sigh left Hiccup, and he parted his lips to change the subject and be rid of the now awkward atmosphere between them when he felt a pressure against his shoulder. Stiffening, his eyes snapped open and glanced to the corner of them, seeing the moonlight reflecting off the top of Jack’s brown strands of hair; now far closer than they’d been previously.

 

Eyes trained on the frozen pond in front of them, Jack leaned closer against the prince, his upper arm now pressed against Hiccup’s. He swallowed the rapid beating of his heart in his throat and ignored the burning flush on the back of his neck. He was as equally stiff as Hiccup, and he couldn’t dare look at him, embarrassed because he had no idea what he was doing.

 

“...Thank you,” Jack whispered, practically croaking the words out.

 

“For what?”

 

Hiccup’s voice was as loud as drums in his ears now with their close proximity, no matter how soft his voice was as he murmured them, raspy and quiet.

 

The nasal quality of his voice was so much more apparent now. It made Jack smile.

 

The muscles in his back relaxed and the tension in his arms lessened and left through his fingers. He leaned his shoulder more comfortably against Hiccup’s.

 

It felt nice.

 

“For taking me here,” he said, still looking at the surface of the frozen pond, unsure if he was ready to look at Hiccup properly. “And.. for telling me. About Toothless, about Berk.”

 

Hiccup felt his ears turn red and hot despite the cold, and glanced towards the other male. “Anytime,” he breathed.

 

Jack felt the prince’s arm and shoulder gradually begin to relax, and felt himself smile more broadly, eyes crinkling at the edges as wispy clouds drifted along the starlit sky. He sucked in a slow breath and sighed an exhale.

 

He didn’t have all of the answers. Not yet. There were still so many questions hanging on the tip of his tongue, yet to be resolved, but he’d received plenty of answers tonight, from the one person he wanted to hear them the most from. For now, while not satisfied, he was content.

 

For just tonight, he felt no more need to press for more. The prince had given him enough for now.

 

Jack wasn’t sure what he felt about this prince he still knew so little about, but he did know that he was kind, had a wry, sarcastic sense of humor, loved his draconic companion as if they were born from the same flesh and blood, brothers in every way except blood (and species), could be utterly frustrating, and he felt nice to lean against.

 

_This... isn’t bad. Not at all. Maybe I could get used to this._

 

With Toothless’s warmth spreading into his back and the pressure of Hiccup’s arm and shoulder against his, the cold night air didn’t bother Jack at all. The faint hoot of owls and the wind between the frozen branches of empty trees were peaceful, and, the weight of the day settling in on him, his eyes fluttered shut, heavy and tired.

 

Feeling the other male’s jaw rest lightly on his shoulder, Hiccup gently turned his head to properly look at the other male, puffs of his warm breath visible in the night air.

 

The temptation to take the aggravating leather mask off of his face was a vicious one, one Hiccup battled with constantly, but, biting on his lower lip, he fought it down. The breeze caused a stray lock of hair to fall against one of Jack’s eyes as he breathed softly and, after a beat of hesitation, Hiccup brushed it back.

 

Barely centimeters from touching Jack’s forehead, his fingers lingered, and Hiccup drank in the relaxed lines of Jack’s face, the slight parting of his lips and the long lashes of his eyes that had the slightest coating of frost on the tips.

 

Lowering his hand, Hiccup smiled, leaned back to rest his head against Toothless’s side, making the dragon grunt quietly, and exhaled, feeling his body sag with relaxation.

 

For one single flutter of a moment, Hiccup allowed himself the faintest hope.

 

\---

 

Half an hour had passed before Jack woke up from his light nap, and when he came to, it was to the sight of Hiccup readjusting the buckles on the front of his flight suit. His back was still pressed against Toothless’s warm side, and he blinked the crust of sleep out of his eyes. Stretching out his arms, he felt his bones rub against each other audibly with little cracks, and he sat up.

 

Green eyes shone in the light of the dipping moon and Hiccup smiled warmly at him over his shoulder. “Looks like you’re awake.” He turned on his foot, walking towards the other male as Jack stood up.

 

Brushing the snow off of his pants, Jack frowned and furrowed his brow. “I wasn’t.. asleep for long, was I?”

 

Chuckling, Hiccup shook his head and rubbed the front of Toothless’s snout as the dragon stood up, shaking and rolling his body to get blood flowing back into his joints once more. “We should probably be heading back, though, especially if you’re starting to get sleepy. But we’ve been out here for a while, so I guess that’s pretty understandable.” He rubbed the back of his head and hummed thoughtfully, then smiled. “Probably thanks to this big guy here that neither of us froze to death.”

 

Hiccup scratched underneath Toothless’s chin and the dragon purred deep in his throat, the corners of his lips twitching upwards at the praise.

 

A smile curved on Jack’s lips and he toyed with a stray lock of brown hair, cold to the touch. “He’s like a fireplace, really, it was hard not to fall asleep against him.”

 

Hiccup’s eyes crinkled as he grinned. “I know, I’ve fallen asleep against him more times than I can count.”

 

Toothless huffed in agreement.

 

Once Jack had gotten all of the snow off of him, Hiccup pulled him back onto Toothless’s saddle, once again taking Jack’s hand in his own in order to pull him up. Just as before, his hold was firm, but gentle, and his hand slid out of Jack’s the moment he was situated on the saddle. Jack pursed his lips as he stared at Hiccup’s back. He heard and saw, out of the corner of his eyes, Toothless spreading out his wings, twitching them to life. Swallowing, he exhaled and drew his arms around Hiccup’s middle, pressing himself closer to the prince.

 

There was the slight stiffening against his chest once more, but he felt the prince relax quicker than he did hours before. Keeping his hold on Hiccup firm, he scooted closer towards him on the saddle until there were only spare inches between their lower bodies. His hands clenched together as the Night Fury’s wings spread wider and, feeling Toothless’s back arch as he crouched forward, his green eyes slitting and muscles rippling throughout his body, Jack held his breath.

 

When Toothless launched upwards, Jack sucked in the cold air, closed his eyes, and smiled through the acceleration. They stayed closed until he felt the dragon come to a steady pace, evening out, and the wind no longer rushed against the skin of his face. Once he felt safe enough to, he opened his eyes and gazed up at the clear, glittering of the stars and the wisps of clouds they flew past.

 

The flight was quiet.

 

As sleepiness began to gradually descend on Jack, he felt no need nor desire to speak. The prince’s comfortable silence indicated that he felt similarly. Hiccup was warm and firm and Toothless flew gracefully over the peak of the mountains, his turns languid but sharp, and his dips smooth and careful. The prince’s body moved in sync with his dragon, and the click of the turning prosthetic was sharp and high-pitched.

 

Jack wished he were more awake to truly appreciate the sight of the night sky and the land below, but the promise of sleep beckoned him. The flight was over before he could realize, and he bounced slightly in his seat after Toothless’s landing, jolting him awake.

 

Hiccup got off of the saddle first, unhooking his boot from the stirrup, and his feet landed loudly onto the flat roof.

 

Jack smiled sleepily as Hiccup’s hair fluffed back into its proper messy, windblown state, and his eyes widened with sobriety when the prince held out his hands to him.

 

He’d fallen asleep leaning against the prince’s side. Hiccup’s shoulder and arm were skinny, but they were comfortable and most importantly.. warm.

 

The airy flutter of bird wings in his stomach returned as he reached out, took Hiccup’s hands in his and let himself be aided in lowering to the floor of the tile roof.

 

The warmth from Hiccup’s hands spread through his, all the way to the bones of his shoulder blades.

 

After such a day, after being granted so much information to absorb and still reeling from the amazement and unbelievability of it all, Jack was left speechless. The most he could do was stare at the prince, at the green of his eyes that stood out amongst the gray clouds and shadows, the ink blue of the sky, and the white glow of the snow.

 

His hands were so warm.

 

Wordless, Hiccup stared at him and Jack wished more than ever that the mask were off so that he could figure out the emotions flickering across his face. The prince appeared to be lost in thought, his lips about to part before they instead kept closed, pursed together.

 

Hiccup slid his hands out of Jack’s and took a few steps back.

 

Jack’s hands hovered in the air before they lowered to his sides. He grasped the inside of his cloak as Hiccup turned to walk back inside the castle, glancing over his shoulder to see if Jack was following. Nodding at Hiccup’s curious expression, he followed, the snow crunching underneath his boots.

 

Toothless stared at the two humans, rumbled thoughtfully to himself and followed his rider inside.

 

Jack’s fingers curled on the doorknob, ready to twist it open, and his sleep-heavy eyes lifted to meet Hiccup’s. “Thank you. For tonight, I mean. And, for telling me.”

 

The corner of the prince’s mouth curled upwards. “No problem.”

 

Glancing downward, Jack licked his bottom lip, then looked up. “I.. I wouldn’t mind doing that again. The whole flying thing. With you.”

 

Green eyes widened and Hiccup took a step back, as if staggering from sheer surprise. “R-Really?”

 

Jack rubbed the back of his head. “..Yeah. I liked it.”

 

Stunned, Hiccup’s mouth opened and closed as the words scrambled out. “S-Sure, of course! I mean--” He cleared his throat.

 

When Jack looked at him from underneath his bangs, Hiccup’s smile was gentle and the tips of his ears were flushed pink.

 

“Of course we can do that again. Whenever you want.”

 

Jack smiled.

 

“...Goodnight, Hiccup.”

 

“Goodnight, Jack.”

 

The prince took a step back, hands held against the base of his spine, and gave Jack a final nod and grin before the door shut. Jack waited until he heard the sound of footsteps leading away from the outside of his door before he turned and let his back rest against it, heaving out a tired sigh. The back of his head hit the wooden door softly, and he stared up at the ceiling.

 

“What a night,” he murmured.

 

The fire crackled and burned warmly as he prepared for bed, and he was just about to crawl underneath the blankets when he saw the flicker of the orange light from the fireplace dancing along the pale yellow of the parchment he’d attempted to write on the night before. Flattening down his nightshirt, Jack peered at the mostly wordless letter, brows knit together thoughtfully.

 

The feet of the chair groaned quietly against the wooden floor as he pushed it back and brought it back into the desk after sitting down. Jack lit the lantern sitting on the desk, its light fluttering on the glass window, and dipped his quill into the inkwell. Scratches of the quill tip on the thick parchment chorused with the crackling firewood and ink dotted the tips of Jack’s fingers as the words flew onto the paper.

 

Resting his chin in his hand, Jack smiled faintly into his palm.

 

Sleep could wait for another hour.

 

_Emma,_

 

_How’re you and Mom? Are you two doing all right? It’s barely been a week and so much has already happened.. Emma. We were right about them. Everyone here in Berk has a dragon; Astrid took me to watch dragon training today. Dragon training! And then, later on, Hiccup (Well, Håkon, but everyone here calls him ‘Hiccup’) took me to this cove where he met Toothless, his dragon, and explained it all, but.. I’m getting ahead of myself.._

 

_\---_

 

“Uh,” Jack said, narrowing his eyes slightly and tilting his head.

 

Slit yellow eyes blinked at him, half-lidded as the little dragon chuffed, his claws latching onto the prince’s clothing as he crawled along the front of his stomach to his back, and then perched on his shoulder.

 

The chuffs sounded like draconic cackles to Jack’s ears.

 

“Who is this?”

 

Toothless, green eyes narrowed, huffed through his nose and rested his head on his front claws, practically glaring at the Terrible Terror that was currently nuzzling his snout against Hiccup’s jaw in what could only be jealousy.

 

Jack was more perturbed by how the little dragon seemed to be mocking him and smirking as it tittered and crooned, burrowing into the crook of the prince’s neck (who was watching the Terrible Terror with a bemused smile).

 

Hiccup scratched the little dragon’s chin, smile widening as the purring grew louder. “This is Sharpshot.”

 

Jack’s eyebrow rose and he glanced at the put-out Night Fury, who was still grumbling in annoyance at the Terrible Terror’s loud titters. “One of yours?”

 

Hiccup scratched his cheek with his free hand and a faint grin played on his lips. “Well.. sort of. I trained her, but she mostly does her own thing unless I whistle for her to come over.”

 

Jack had been quite confused and befuddled when upon asking Hiccup how he could send a letter to his family, the prince had grinned, stuck two fingers in his mouth and given a sharp whistle. A high-pitched trill and a sudden blur of yellow-green followed, practically slamming into the prince’s chest.

 

He’d been shocked still and a bit worried that someone just threw a green-colored cannonball at the prince from out of nowhere before he heard the telltale, throaty purring.

 

“Oh, well, okay then,” he said duly. He scratched the back of his head, raising a brow once more at the prince. “So.. why’d you call her over here, then?”

 

Hiccup’s grin widened and his arms shifted, raising, as Sharpshot crawled down his front and across his stomach once more, much to Toothless’s distaste (if his low growl was anything to go by). “She’ll be delivering your letter to your mother and your sister.”

 

Jack’s eyes widened. “Really?”

 

Blinking, Sharpshot cocked her head from her perch on top of Hiccup’s mop of auburn hair and chirped at him.

 

Hiccup grinned wryly up at the little dragon whose claws were digging slightly into his scalp and huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, don’t let her size fool you; she’s pretty quick. She’ll get your letter to your family and be back within days, though she might stay with them for a day or two while they write you back.”

 

Holding out an arm, the prince made a clicking noise, drawing Sharpshot’s attention. He smiled at her and stroked her spine with his free hand. Hiccup jerked his chin towards Jack. “Go on, Sharpshot, say hello and take his letter for him.”

 

Her nostrils flared, sniffing at the other male, and warbling deep in her throat, she crawled along the prince’s outstretched arm and onto Jack’s slightly wavering elbow, not entirely sure if he was holding his arm out correctly.

 

His arm dipped underneath Sharpshot’s weight and the Terrible Terror chittered at him, laughing her strange, breathy cackle that reminded Jack of a cat or fox.

 

Jack glanced at Hiccup, and the prince pointed towards her claws, the little dragon’s talons digging slightly into the fabric of Jack’s clothing.

 

“Put the letter in her claw. Let her sniff something you have from home, and she’ll take it straight there.”

 

Biting down on his bottom lip thoughtfully, Jack stuck a hand underneath his cloak and rummaged about until the tips of his fingers brushed against cold metal.

 

Hiccup’s brows rose in interest beneath his mask at the flicker of bronze in the moonlight, the cold air not even fogging up the clear glass of the compass, its arrow fluttering underneath. Sharpshot leaned down to sniff the compass, warbling deep in her throat, and then her tail twitched excitedly against the back of Jack’s shoulder as she began to chitter in his ear.

 

Jack blinked rapidly when she suddenly nuzzled his cheek after taking the letter between her claws, only to then watch as the Terrible Terror spread her wings, angled, and took flight. Jack watched her until she disappeared into the gray darkness of the clouds.

 

-

 

_Several Hours Earlier..._

 

After spending most of the night upon returning to the manor writing his letters to both his mother and Emma, well until the wick of the candle was low, sitting on its stick, Jack threw himself underneath the sheets of his bed and slept late into the morning. It was nearly noon by the time he woke up and, upon realizing that the sun was high in the sky, he’d rushed to put on his clothing and sprinted to the kitchens, nearly tripping down the stairs, much to his mortification.

 

He’d found a wryly amused Astrid raising her eyebrow at him, lounging back on her chair in the drawing room. He saw a bright yellow-orange eye peering at him through the window, and heard the muffled squawk of a blue Deadly Nadder outside. “Long night?”

 

Jack was simply relieved that she didn’t appear to be angry or annoyed with him, and he straightened out the front of his shirt and cloak. Playing nonchalant, he shrugged and smiled at her. “Sort of,” he said, not sure if he felt comfortable enough around Astrid to tell her about last night’s escapades. “Might’ve stayed up a bit later than I meant to,” he smiled, sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, did I miss anything important?”

 

Astrid’s grin softened and she shook her head. “No, today’s been pretty average, but if you’d like to come watch some more dragon training, well, feel free to come along.” Standing up from the chair, her eyes narrowed in teasing and mirth. “I think a friend of yours has been waiting for you to wake up for a while, now. Shan’t keep him waiting much longer, should we?”

 

A quiet knock against glass made Jack jolt and look towards the window, where a pair of slit, forest green eyes peered at him through the opaque glass. A muffled, high-pitched part-whine, part-warble echoed through the walls and a wide grin stretched along Jack’s face.

 

Much like the day before, Jack sat on the sidelines of the arena, resting his back against the auburn dragon’s side, and watched dragon training unfold. They were practicing hand commands, and Jack observed, impressed, as Stormfly and Meatlug followed the hand commands of their riders with clear, practiced ease. Neither Astrid nor Fishlegs even had to say the commands out loud; the dragons simply knew. When Astrid motioned for Stormfly to throw out one of her tail spikes, she did so without any other compulsion. Jack would admit to gaping when the spike hit the center of the practice target.

 

The auburn dragon rumbled in satisfaction when Meatlug spat out molten lava with a single gesture of Fishlegs’s hand.

 

Then, he groaned and pressed a claw over his face when Tuffnut and Ruffnut signaled opposing commands, causing Barf and Belch to try flying in separate directions and later led them to knocking their skulls together on accident, which then caused the twins to start bickering and hitting each other with their shields.

 

Jack laughed.

 

He never claimed to be mature.

 

Snotlout seemed to be hit-or-miss when it came to commanding Hookfang wordlessly; the dragon appeared to echo much of his rider’s personality in regards to pure stubbornness, and Hookfang only listened (or even paid attention) to his rider’s commands when he felt like it. Belligerent, just like his rider.

 

Jack was just thankful that Snotlout seemed to be keeping his distance from him. Though, he didn’t know what to make of the irritated, annoyed glares the other male sometimes shot the auburn dragon’s way.

 

Said dragon simply stared at Snotlout, sniffed, and huffed smoke through his nostrils.

 

The dragon rider kept his distance and Jack contentedly watched the second half of dragon training with fascination, amusing himself with the children when they came in for their early afternoon classes. The familiar forms of Sophie and Jamie practically latched onto him and now that Jack had a better idea of what Berk used to be like, much of the young boy’s ramblings and utterances made much more sense, and Jack could converse with him on a more level playing field. Sophie crawled on top of the auburn dragon’s back and played with his ears, giggling all the while and swinging her legs.

 

Jack watched with a swelling warmth in his chest and a wide grin at how gently the dragon treated Sophie, watching her out of the corner of his slit eyes, reaching out his wing to keep her steady when she appeared to nearly fall off of him, and crooning low and deep in his chest when she babbled incomprehensible sentences to him, as if he could understand her.

 

It was such a precious sight that it could almost be called nauseating. The twins certainly seemed to think so, if their gagging noises and grimaces were any indication.

 

Jack was disinclined to agree.

 

Fingers lazily stroking the scales along the auburn dragon’s neck, the dragon napped lightly against him and Jack watched the sun begin to lower over the mountains as training came to a close. Sitting at the edge of what used to be a kill ring while truly understanding what he was watching and how different it must feel to the riders now was an odd sensation; even with Hiccup’s detailed, lengthy tale of Berk’s upheaval and the end of the war between Vikings and dragons, Jack still had trouble trying to picture the arena being used to kill dragons. In the end, Jack decided not to anymore.

 

He chose to bask in what Berk was now, not what it had once been.

 

As the sun was setting over the sharp peaks of snow-capped mountains, Jack watched the auburn dragon spread his wings and take to the sky and smiled, grateful to Berk for simply existing, and grateful towards the one human and his dragon who made it all happen.

 

The hours before dinner with Hiccup were spent with Jack finishing his letters to his mother and Emma, trying to put as much detail as he could remember into them; he took the pains to describe all of the different dragons there for Emma, even the most minuscule mentions of the color patterns on their scales, to the different ways the dragons communicated with each other and their relationships with their riders. He spoke of the children he’d met, of Jamie and Sophie, and thought to himself that Jamie and Emma would’ve gotten along well.

 

The thought of Jamie and Emma becoming friends, attending dragon training together, and Emma playing with both Sophie and the auburn dragon made him smile.

 

To his mother; assurances that he made it to Berk safely, that the dragons would not dare hurt him, and that he was settling in as well as he could. While he was sure that Emma had explained their shared history with the auburn dragon, at least in part, Jack still gave his mother an abridged version of his initial meeting with the dragon, emphasizing the dragon’s gentle, kind nature; that he could be playful, teasing, but fierce in his protection. That the dragon helped them find food during the harsher months of the year (the baskets of fish they brought home, some boar and rabbit the auburn dragon hunted alongside him for). Everything he could think of to ease his mother’s anxieties and fears of him being in a place riddled with dragons.

 

Jack was careful to control his enthusiasm over dragons being such a constant in Berk, and was sure to mention that all of the dragons in Berk were trained. He chose not to include Berk’s former, bloody and violent history with dragons. Not in this letter. No, he had to assuage his mother’s confidence in his safety.

 

The topic of Hiccup was something else entirely. One he still wasn’t sure how to approach.

 

As Jack wrote the prince’s name, 

 

_Håkon--_

 

He paused.

 

Setting the quill down, Jack groaned and ran his hands down his face, then up again, raking fingers through his hair. He rubbed his temple as he looked up through the window, watching the rays of orange and purple begin to bleed into ink blue. A half-moon, faded and gray, was beginning to grow in its gleam among the clouds, and Jack was at a loss at how to write about a man whom his feelings and thoughts towards were as unclear as the clouds hovering over the mountains.

 

_“I think that’s pretty special.”_

 

Jack stared down at the parchment, his cheeks beginning to flood with color as his stomach fluttered, and with a swallow, he picked up his quill once more, and began writing.

 

Once he was finished, he had two thick envelopes with no way of knowing how to send them to his family, nor how they would send their letters back to him.

 

Later, while sharing a comfortable dinner with Hiccup with Toothless stretched out in the corner of the dining room on the fourth floor, Jack looked through the large open window out into the mountains and the cloudy night, and he asked the prince if he could send letters to his family and how.

 

The lines around the prince’s eyes were soft and he murmured a quiet, ‘ _of course_ ,’ before he grinned. Then, he whistled.

 

And here they were, now.

 

-

 

Once Sharpshot had disappeared beyond the mountains full of clouds, Jack turned towards the prince, now attending to a rather whiny and needy Night Fury, rolling his green eyes at the dragon and muttering ‘baby-boo’ under his breath as he scratched the scales along his neck. Toothless paid no mind to Hiccup’s affectionate insults and his green eyes fluttered shut, the corners of his mouth curled upwards in a draconic smile as he crooned deep in his chest, happy and content with the tender touches.

 

“Thank you, Hiccup.”

 

Fingers stilling, Hiccup’s green eyes lifted to meet Jack’s deep brown. A warm smile curled on his lips. “You’re welcome,” he said. “It was no problem. Sharpshot can send and get you as many letters as you want or need. Just whistle for her and she’ll come by.”

 

Jack grinned and a soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

The auburn dragon, Sharpshot, and Toothless; Jack wondered just how many dragons Hiccup had in his unofficial menagerie.

 

The night was still young, and they’d only just finished dinner, one filled with comfortable conversation about that day’s dragon training, and Jack wasn’t ready to return to his room just yet. Scuffing his heel into the wooden floor, still standing in front of the open windows that Sharpshot had flown out of, he bit his bottom lip and spoke, “So.. any other big reveals you’re gonna give me, tonight?”

 

Hiccup stared at him, then he gave a snort of laughter, crossing his arms and leaning back against Toothless’s side. He was grinning faintly. “Not at the moment, no. I was gonna let you decide what you want to do.” The grin softened and Hiccup tilted his head. “ _Is_ there anything you want to do?”

 

A sudden breeze whispered against his skin, blowing some of his bangs into his eyes, and Jack blinked and pulled the strands away. He looked up and saw that the clouds had parted; the night sky had been so clear ever since he arrived in Berk, and the stars seemed so close when he flew on Toothless’s back that he felt like he could just reach out his fingers and be able to touch them.

 

He yearned to touch them.

 

Fingers scraping against the skin of his neck, Jack looked at the prince through his brown, windswept bangs.

 

“..Can we go flying?”

 

Toothless’s ear-fins twitched and raised, his green eyes widening with interest as his head lifted. Jack heard a warble from between the dragon’s teeth as a draconic smile curled on the Night Fury’s lips. His rear was wriggling with what could only be excitement.

 

Hiccup’s green eyes gleamed with light and he smiled.

 

\---

 

Sitting atop one of Gobber’s tables in his workshop, Jack tucked his legs in and watched in quiet, rapt fascination as the older man tapped in a false tooth for a Deadly Nadder, whose tooth had broken. The window was open, causing a slight draft of a breeze to blow in through the panes, and the auburn dragon hung his head off of the sill, watching the Blacksmith work, green eyes flitting towards Jack every so often to watch the human’s fascinated grin.

 

Jack burst out laughing when Gobber tapped the dragon’s nose with one of his hammers, causing the dragon to snort, shake his head, and, annoyed, blow smoke into the man’s face. Grump snored and grumbled sleepily, stirring only slightly at Gobber’s sudden hacking and coughing.

 

Satisfied with himself, the auburn dragon sniffed.

 

Jack couldn’t help but continue to smile when he flicked the dragon’s nose in admonishment, chuckling and stroking underneath the dragon’s skin at the large green eyes looking imploringly up at him and the low whine he gave.

 

The dragon raised his head and sniffed Jack’s hair, still messy and uncontrollable from the night of flying and not brushing his hair upon waking up. Not that he ever felt much need to.

 

Laughing, Jack lightly batted the dragon’s nose away and brushed his flyaway strands of hair out of his eyes. His fingers ran through the soft strands and down the sides of his face, the clang of Gobber’s hammer faint background noise as he recalled the sound of the wind rushing against his skin and through his hair, the smell of salt water and sea foam as Toothless hovered above the cliffs, and the icy waves crashing against the rocks. 

 

He thought of Hiccup’s leather-covered back against his chest, his own arms wrapped around the prince’s middle, and how warm he was.

 

Jack smiled, closed his eyes, and ran his palm along the auburn dragon’s snout.

 

It’d been several days since Sharpshot first flew out of his hands, his letters to his mother and Emma in her claws, taking them all the way to Burgess, and Jack was already beginning to see a routine quickly forming; during the day, he would wander around Berk, whether it led him to dragon training, watching Gobber work, or any other miscellaneous activities around the village. Then, when the sun fell and the moon was rising over the mountains, he would meet with Hiccup, they would have dinner, and afterwards, Hiccup would show him something new, or tell him something about himself and Berk that he hadn’t known previously.

 

And lately, he’d started taking him flying.

 

That was Jack’s favorite.

 

His stomach twisted anxiously as he would search the skies for a green-scaled Terrible Terror, carrying letters from home, yearning to see his mother’s fine, cursive script and his sister’s scrawl, but when Hiccup took him above the clouds on Toothless’s back, all of his worries were swept away as the wind rushed past them.

 

As Gobber began to close shop, Jack looked out the window to watch the slowly setting sun, and felt a smile twitch on his lips as the fluttery sensation in his stomach returned. He wondered where they would fly that night, where Hiccup would take him, what little pieces of himself he’d reveal.

 

There was still so much that Jack wanted to know, so much he wanted to see. He wanted more of a taste of the seawater on the wind, settling on his tongue, the smell of the cold air all around him, and the feeling of wings beating below him.

 

Jack looked forward to meeting with Hiccup later in the evening.

 

When the auburn dragon took him to the manor and dropped him off, Jack said his goodbyes to his friend, promising to meet the next day. As always, he stood and watched as the dragon flew away, and once he was out of sight, Jack turned on his heel and went inside with a quicker pace in his steps that hadn’t been there previously.

 

Apart from Hiccup himself, Stoick was the member of the Haddock family he’d seen the least of. Valka was either in the manor or wandering about the village, occasionally on the outskirts of it (she’d mentioned that she’d go flying with Cloudjumper through the mountains, as the Stormcutter enjoyed the rugged terrain and found the most joy flying between the peaks, and it was a happiness shared with his rider; there was just something wild about her that Jack couldn’t help but notice, as if she’d been born from the wilderness itself), and whenever he’d run into her, she would smile and ask how his day had been.

 

She was still intimidating, and she sometimes looked at him with eyes that studied, as if she were watching a particularly fascinating breed of dragon roam about in the wild, but her smile was kind and the crow’s feet of her green eyes reminded Jack of his mother’s. Valka’s smile was more crooked than the half-moon of his mother’s, but the queen was kind, warm, and made Jack feel less like a stranger in some mystical land he could’ve only dreamt about.

 

Valka’s smile was an echo of Hiccup’s, crooked, a little awkward, but so very kind.

 

She helped to make him feel welcome in this place he still knew so little about.

 

Her husband, the king, and Hiccup’s father.. was something else entirely.

 

The man’s face was difficult to read when the king looked down at him, not with contempt or disdain, but with an unreadable curiosity that Jack didn’t know how to fathom. With his thick, red, freckled with gray beard, Jack could never tell if the man was smiling or frowning. When Jack could not see the movement of his mouth behind his beard, he couldn’t read the emotions on the king’s face.

 

Valka reminded Jack of the sleek, solitary lions that lived deep in the mountains, and Stoick reminded him of the thick-furred bears that fished for salmon as the ice of the streams and rivers cracked.

 

Stoick intimidated Jack, far more than his wife or son did.

 

Much to Jack’s relief, the king often appeared to be busy, roaming about the village, attending to the needs of his people more often than he was at home, but from his place in his bedroom, Jack could hear the sound of his heavy footsteps upon entering, his quiet greetings to his wife, and, even more soft and quietly, to his son. 

 

The man’s initial greeting to him had been kind, if cautious, but Jack still wasn’t sure how to act around the bear of a man, and such a **powerful** man, no less. All of Hiccup’s awkwardness, his gesturing mannerisms and his crooked smiles disarmed Jack’s intimidation towards being betrothed to a prince, but the king was another story entirely.

 

Jack was grateful for the spare few hours he allowed himself in his room, able to be alone and away from it all, to give his mind ease and rest. The deep blue eyes with flecks of green that studied him with such unreadable emotion and stern eyebrows left Jack unsettled, unsure as to what the king thought of him.

 

The thought of the patriarch of the family he’d be marrying into not liking him or accepting him... it was terrifying.

 

So, Jack kept his distance from the man, and the man appeared to do the same.

 

After Jack shut the heavy doors behind him, he stepped through the hallways to curl up in the sitting room for warmth in front of the fire, only to see a hulking figure standing in front of the tapestry of the island with waves crashing against the sides of the cliffs, the vibrant red of his hair bringing Jack to a sudden stop.

 

He could see the man’s ears perk at the sound of footsteps from behind him, and Jack held his breath as the man turned, and he found himself staring into mildly surprised blue eyes.

 

“Oh, Jackson,” the king said in his deep baritone. “Welcome back.”

 

Jack’s boots shuffled against the wooden floor, his brown eyes falling to the snowcapped tips, the frost clinging to the leather. “..Thank you.”

 

He felt the man turn on his feet, hearing the creak of the floorboards underneath his weight. If he looked up, he would’ve seen Stoick stroke his beard and purse his lips behind the strands of hair, shoulders slightly hunched.

 

“Did you.. have a good day?” He asked.

 

The hesitance in the man’s voice came as a surprise and Jack cautiously looked up at him. The man’s brows were drawn together, the wrinkles around his eyes more prevalent. He seemed _nervous_.

 

Jack blinked. “Um,” he started, stupidly. He fiddled with his fingers. “Yes, yes I did. I, uh, spent the day watching Gobber work.”

 

The man’s eyes relaxed and his shoulders lowered. Jack thought he saw something like a smile curl behind the man’s beard. 

 

“Oh, did you?” The corners of his mouth rose when Jack nodded.

 

“I never realized that a dragon’s teeth could be, ah, cared for like that,” Jack said, playing with the front of his cloak.

 

The king chuckled. It rumbled through the hallway like soft drums. “Neither did I, but I suppose it was something of a happy accident. It gave Gobber a new job, and he’s happy with it.”

 

Curious, Jack lifted his eyes to the man’s. “What was his old job?”

 

Stoick’s smile wavered, and guilt flickered in his blue eyes. “He, ah, used to build weapons. Before the dragons began living with us.”

 

Jack stilled. “Oh,” he said quietly.

 

An awkward silence settled between the king and Jack, and the young man was back to watching the snow and frost crusted along his boots melt.

 

Clearing his throat, Stoick tugged the strands of his beard between his fingers and turned to look at the tapestry once more.

 

Lifting his eyes, Jack followed the king’s stare, gaze falling back onto the island woven into the tapestry. He looked between the fabric and the king, and, with several cautious steps forward, approached it.

 

“..Did Val ever tell you what this tapestry is?” The king asked, never looking away from it.

 

“No, she didn’t. Not this one, anyway.” Brown eyes lifted towards the king. “What is it?”

 

The corners of Stoick’s mouth twisted upwards. “It’s Berk.”

 

Blinking, Jack’s brows furrowed and he narrowed his eyes at the tapestry. “But... I thought--”

 

The older man’s chuckle cut him off. “My apologies, this is what Berk _used_ to be. Berk wasn’t born out of the mountains, but on the sea. I don’t have any memory of the island myself as it was before my time, but we Berkians used to live there. It’s further north, away from these shores. This.. used to be our home.”

 

The vikings were a seafaring people, his mother had said. They were sailors, traders, lived by the sea and its whims, eating its fish and using their bones for tools. They made the sea their refuge and ally during warfare, and persevered through its sharp, heavy waves when the sea turned against them. When Jack was a child, he once asked his mother if vikings were born from the sea itself.

 

She’d laughed and said no, but that they loved the seas as if they had been. Their home was the sea and the jagged islands that protected them from their enemies, fed them, and led them to previously uncharted lands. The salt of the waves was in their blood.

 

Looking up at the tapestry and the king, seeing the somber strain of his blue yes, Jack felt his chest clench from an overwhelming history that he could not fancy to ever understand.

 

“Hiccup’s never been there,” Stoick said, voice quiet. “This is the only home he’s ever known.”

 

Jack thought of black wings on a sunlit sky, their tips grazing the surface of the salted water, surrounded by nothing but the sea, and wondered, not for the first time, how a seafaring warrior folk such as the Berkians wound up in a land so jagged and harsh, enclosed by the mountains, the sea in the distance.

 

He looked down at his shoes and shuffled on his feet.

 

“You, you have a good place here,” he said, the words feeling dull and stupid even as they fell out of his mouth. “It’s.. I doubt that there’s anything like Berk anywhere else. It’s amazing, really.”

 

He felt the back of his neck turn red and the king’s eyes falling on him, and he did not dare to look up. Else, he would have seen the slightly widened shape of them, studying him. Then, he would have seen how those blue eyes softened, flickering with a newfound understanding and respect for the young man standing beside him.

 

Stoick began to understand why his son chose this boy from warmer pastures, possessing not a single drop of nobility in his blood nor knowledge of Berk and its bloody, complicated history.

 

It appeared that Hiccup and himself had more in common than he thought.

 

Beneath his beard, Stoick smiled.

 

“..I believe most of that is Hiccup’s doing,” he said softly. “And I cannot begin to express just how proud of him I am.”

 

From the corner of his eye, Jack stared at the king and wondered how the intimidating, scary man who’d once been the greatest dragon killer of them all, as he’d been told by the man’s son, could have come to be this imposing yet welcoming king standing before him. Jack could not begin to imagine what it must have been like for him to see Berk change into what it’d become, to have a dragon of his own, to almost lose his own son to a monstrosity of a winged beast only to defeat it and bring peace to a tired, warring land. The pride in the king’s voice was palpable as he spoke and Jack’s awe, restrained but not quite extinguished, at this strange but wonderful land came alive once more.All of this, the dragons and humans living side by side in peace, was due to his son and the dragon he’d befriended.

 

Jack smiled.

 

But the king..

 

“More than anything, I want to see my son happy.”

 

..He wasn’t finished yet.

 

Shifting on his feet, Stoick’s blue eyes fell on him.

 

The muscles in Jack’s neck stiffened as he looked warily up at the king, unsure what to make of the crease of his eyes and brows. The words he said had him holding his breath, lips pursed as he tried to make sense of the stormy blue of the king’s eyes. The light, invisible butterfly wings fluttered in his stomach.

 

Stoick searched for words, knowing himself not to be a man of many, and when he spoke at last, it was with careful consideration of each vowel and consonant. “..When Val and I finally got Hiccup to tell us who he’s had his eyes set on for so long, I’d _never_ seen my son speak of anyone or look like.. like he did, when he told me of you.”

 

Brown eyes widened and Jack’s breath stilled.

 

The king studied the wide-eyed expression on the boy’s face, and the severe furrow of his brow softened. His beard curled upwards with the turn of the corners of his mouth and he reached out a hand.

 

When the king’s hand laid itself on his shoulder, Jack jolted at the sheer weight of it, its size almost completely eclipsing the entirety of his shoulder, but the man’s hold was light, careful, and gentle. Just like the soft twinkle of the man’s blue eyes.

 

“I hope he can continue to be happy,” Stoick murmured. He paused, then continued after a beat of careful contemplation. “And I, I hope that you, too, can find some happiness here, in this family.”

 

Jack felt warmth pool into his cheeks and crawl along the back of his neck. He looked down at the floor and the king’s hand fell off of his shoulder. “Thank you,” he murmured, unable to look up nor say anything else in response. He didn’t know _how_ to respond.

 

The king nodded, a possible smile visible through the red-gray strands of his beard, and left Jack standing in front of the tapestry of what Berk used to be.

 

Jack stood there, not knowing how much time had passed, until the final rays of the sun disappeared behind the slopes of the mountains. When the warm glow of day faded and night bled into the clouded skies, the stars beginning to reveal themselves, Jack retreated to his room to perch on his window seat and wait for a trilling Terrible Terror to bring back letters from the only family he knew.

 

-

 

His knees hit the floor, his fingers curled against the wood and his chest heaved as the last trembles of his muscles subsided, leaving him panting for breath. He heard the soft croon of the Night Fury in his ear, and felt a warm, scaly nose nudging his jaw. He wrapped his arms around the dragon’s neck, allowing himself to be pulled back up onto his feet. Straightening his legs, he grunted at the soft cracks of his joints clicking back into place and the feeling of aliveness thrumming back into his blood.

 

Toothless closed his eyes and trilled at Hiccup’s warm smile and rub to his nose as the prince thanked him.

 

The Night Fury kept an eye on his rider as Hiccup changed into warm, clean clothes, righting him back up when he began to stumble on unsteady legs, and he draped his wing against the prince’s back as he placed the mask on his face. The dragon watched the prince glare at his reflection before draping a cloth back over the reflective glass.

 

Toothless rejoined Hiccup in the drawing room, crawling out the window of his rider’s room and scaling down the outside wall to wriggle through the windows of the drawing room, always left open for him to crawl through or place his head on the panes. The dragon joined him by the frosted over panes as the prince paced through the room, resting his jaw on the old, furnished wood. 

 

The prince muttered nonsense under his breath, incomprehensible and the words spilling out of his own mouth not making much sense even to Hiccup. His mind was running at a furious pace, thoughts like arrows of fire spilling out of his mouth.

 

Sensing his rider’s internal distress and fearful of his human overwhelming himself as he was wont to do, the dragon crawled over the ledge of the large window to join Hiccup.

 

With how much Hiccup ran his hands through his hair, ruffling and pulling it, he was sure that he was going to be bald in a few years.

 

Toothless perched his chin on Hiccup’s shoulder, crooning into his neck, and closed his eyes when his rider leaned his head against the Night Fury’s, instantly relaxing against the dragon.

 

“Gods,” Hiccup breathed, absently rubbing his hand underneath the dragon’s jaw. “Hard to believe he’s only been here almost two weeks, at most.”

 

Toothless blinked and warbled softly in his ear.

 

Turning his head to face his best friend more clearly, Hiccup ran his palm along the dragon’s snout. Watching Toothless’s green eyes flutter shut, he smiled. The corners of his mouth, turned upward, were somber. Green eyes closed and Hiccup was lost in his thoughts, the too many variables and possibilities of a could-be future, that he almost didn’t hear the door open.

 

Looking over his shoulder, Toothless’s green eyes opening once more, Hiccup saw his father and grinned faintly. “Hey, Dad. Where’s Mom?”

 

Pulling his belt up further on his waistline, Stoick smiled beneath his beard at his son, the stressed lines of his tired, chiefly face fading into his skin as he took in his son’s green eyes. Lines and wrinkles around his eyes pulled and tightened as the light of the flickering fire bounced off of the brown leather mask clasped to Hiccup’s face.

 

“She’s probably on her way home,” Stoick said. “He’s a rather skittish one, that boy you’ve chosen.”

 

Stoick raised an eyebrow at Hiccup’s snort of laughter and the curl of his mouth. “Skittish? _Jack?_ Not a chance.” He ignored his father’s choice of words. “You kind of cut an intimidating figure, Dad, he’s not exactly used to being around men of your, uh, _stature_.”

 

The king narrowed his eyes at his sheepishly grinning son, but after a pause for thought, he acquiesced to Hiccup’s comment; given how skinny the boy was and from what little Hiccup told of the boy’s family, he supposed it was only natural for him to be unused to those living the more torrid life of a viking that demanded knowledge in the arts of weaponry when compared to the life of a farmer and those that lived off of the land, tilling fields, planting seeds, and working with nature itself to live through the harsh winters that blew through the meadows. Vikings were warriors, farmers were not. It was expected that they would not be as bulky or stout as those of the far north. Not that he didn’t have some muscular stature, which impressed Stoick.

 

It meant that Jackson could one day be able to protect his boy.

 

The thought, a mere whisper in the back of his mind, sobered his faint bemusement and a frown pulled at his beard. “Son...” he said.

 

Hiccup paused and his mouth fell into a line. 

 

Toothless watched his rider and the king as Stoick gave a sigh and sat down in his usual chair, the fire crackling behind him, and Hiccup sat against the arm of a couch, his hand automatically reaching for Toothless as the atmosphere shifted.

 

Stoick raised his eyes to his son. “Are you absolutely sure about this, Hiccup?”

 

Hiccup’s eyes lowered to the floor, watching the light of the flames dance on the fur carpet. “About what?” he murmured.

 

Stoick shifted uncomfortably. “About Jackson.”

 

Hiccup didn’t respond.

 

Stoick wished he could read his son’s face.

 

Unable to take the silence, he continued, brows furrowing as he watched the firelight on the leather of Hiccup’s mask, his chest clenching tightly. “..Håkon,” he said, watching Hiccup’s shoulder stiffen and green eyes flicker towards him at his birth name. “Are you absolutely sure about marrying him? Can you be sure that he will come to..” He paused, pursing his lips.

 

A long, held beat of silence passed before Hiccup spoke, staring into the fire.

 

“Can we really ever be sure about anything?” he said neutrally.

 

“You’re not answering the question, Håkon,” Stoick said, frowning.

 

“You didn’t finish it,” Hiccup said, a sharpness entering his tone that hadn’t been there before. A deft clipped edge that had Stoick’s frown deepening and a crease forming between his brows.

 

“ _Håkon_ ,” he said lowly.

 

Flickers of shame and guilt presented themselves in Hiccup’s green eyes at the low, stern rumble of his birth name, and the prince bit his bottom lip. Hiccup finally turned to look at his father, blinking out the glare of the fire.

 

It’d been years since Stoick had seen his son look so vulnerable, so young, so.. **small**.

 

Chest clenching, Stoick rose from his chair and went to grasp Hiccup’s shoulders (so skinny and sharp-boned, with traces of muscles from hours in the forge and years of flying on Toothless’s back, of shooting through the sunlit sky) in his large hands.

 

“Do you think he can come to love you?” he whispered.

 

Hiccup bit down hard on his trembling bottom lip and he lowered his green eyes to the floor.

 

Toothless crooned softly and tucked his head underneath his rider’s arm, pressing against his hip. The vibrations of the dragon’s body allowed his own to relax, and Hiccup sought out the warmth of Toothless’s scales.

 

“I don’t know,” Hiccup said quietly.

 

The fire crackled on and Stoick refused to let go of Hiccup’s shoulders. Left scrambling for words, all he could do was squeeze his son’s shoulders, unable to say any Odin-damned thing. Shoulders he might never get to hold again if nothing changed in the oncoming months, seeking out the green eyes that so resembled his mother’s, eyes he might never be able to look into again; he’d lost enough of his son already, time that’d been stolen from their family, and Stoick would not allow any more to be taken from him.

 

He hoped more than anything that Jack could find happiness here, with his son. He wanted Hiccup to be happy.

 

Hope was one of the few things they still had left. Time had been taken out of their hands years ago.

 

“Hiccup...” he murmured.

 

“Dad, it’s okay,” he said. The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Just him liking me enough to be my friend, or, well, anything close to that, or just being willing to _talk to me_ right now.. it’s enough.”

 

Stoick saw Hiccup’s eyes crinkle behind the mask, and he was reminded so much of his wife; she smiled the same way.

 

“I think it’s more than what I could ever hope for.”

 

Hiccup’s green eyes widened and then clenched shut as he released a muffled ‘oof-’ when his father suddenly pulled him into a hug that could’ve crushed his spine if it weren’t for his paternal love.

 

_You won’t take him. By Odin and Thor, you will not take my son, too,_ Stoick prayed viciously.

 

Valka walked into the sitting room to the sight of her husband patting her coughing son’s back, the boy rubbing it, moaning something about his ‘poor back,’ and scowling at the sound of his Night Fury’s chuffs.

 

She smiled, huffed a laugh, and walked forward to take her son’s face between her hands. She rubbed her thumb over the curve of the mask, brushing over the edge of it and wishing she could rip it off of his face, a wish she’d made more times than she dared to count.

 

Valka asked him how his day had been and she smiled as her son chattered off.

 

-

 

They were gradually flying further away from Berk than they’d previously been, Jack noticed. The furthest they’d gone were the cliffs where Hiccup had taken Toothless on a test ride with his new prosthetic tail, and now they were going further into the wilderness, deep in the mountains. Jack had to blink out the cold bite of the wind and clung more firmly onto Hiccup’s waist, edging close enough for his chin to brush against his padded shoulder; the close proximity had him swallowing, but no longer made his stomach twist in knots as it had the first few nights.

 

The anxious settle of his gut was due to how quiet the prince had been the past few hours. Normally, he could be a bit of a chatterbox and run off at the mouth in his awkward stumble of vowels, he’d noticed, though their silences, mutual and slow, had come to be more comfortable than they were the first day they’d properly met.

 

Brows furrowed, Jack pursed his lips and let his eyes wander to the peaks of the mountains they flew over.

 

The snow grew in dust clouds around them as Toothless landed. Jack removed his arms and Hiccup slid off the saddle, Jack following suit. The snow crunched against the soles of his boots and he tucked his cloak in closer to his body, the compass bouncing against his hip inside his pocket. Squinting, he observed their surroundings; they were in the middle circular-shaped thicket, surrounded by trees on every side, the snow soft beneath his feet. He thought he saw what looked like scorch marks on the bark of the trees, indents, and well-worn circular paths in the snow.

 

“Okay.. so, what place have you brought me to, now?”

 

Hiccup, kneeling down to the ground and tracing his fingers over a path made in the snow, looked over his shoulder, and through the mask, he saw the prince’s eyes crinkle into a smile. “Just a place where I can introduce you to a friend of mine.”

 

Toothless, eyes half-lidded, snorted with a grumpy air and lowered himself to the ground, something like a scowl curled on his draconic lips.

 

Jack was really beginning to wonder if Hiccup _had_ been raised by dragons.

 

He stepped closer to the prince. “A draconic friend of yours?” he asked duly, raising a thick brown eyebrow. He lowered down to the ground, the bottom hem of his cloak brushing against the snow. He could see Hiccup’s every breath in the dark, a half-moon shining on the snow.

 

Hiccup grinned sheepishly. “Wow, I’m really transparent, aren’t I?”

 

Jack, feeling a sudden rush of playfulness, observed the trees thoughtfully and then gave a curt nod, making the prince snort a laugh. Jack smiled.

 

“Well, who’s the dragon companion you’re introducing me to tonight?”

 

Toothless gave a particularly loud snort.

 

Rolling his eyes, Hiccup muttered, “What a big baby..” under his breath, but he smiled at Jack and began to part his lips.

 

A sudden roar cut him off.

 

The noise was a deep rumble that ascended into what could only be a trill, deep within a large breast, and Jack winced as the snow suddenly kicked up in his face. He heard Hiccup cough and wave the snow out of his face. The prince stood and Jack did the same, blinking when he saw snow clinging to the tips of the prince’s auburn hair.

 

He reached up to brush it away, bits of snow falling to Hiccup’s shoulders.

 

The other male looked at him and Jack paused.

 

He lowered his hand to his side. Whatever he might’ve said, if he could’ve found anything to say, was lost as the ground shuddered beneath their feet from a heavy body falling against the surface. Jack looked up and gaped.

 

Hiccup’s smile was so wide his cheeks were beginning to hurt. “Hey, Torch.”

 

Toothless grumbled, resting his head on his front claws, and glared at the dragon lowering his large, horned head in front of Hiccup.

 

Jack could only watch with a stupidly open, gaping mouth as a behemoth of a dragon, almost six times bigger than Toothless, trilled at Hiccup and lowered its white-scaled head into Hiccup’s open palms. The prince grinned so boyishly and talked to the dragon, the dragon trilling back to him and blinking his orange eyes at him.

 

Taking a step back, those orange eyes glanced at him and Jack swallowed. “Um, Hiccup... who is this?”

 

The dragon nuzzled his nose against Hiccup’s shoulder, and the prince looked over his shoulder as he stroked the dragon’s long and thin white neck. “This is Torch, he’s a Typhoomerang.”

 

Torch purred his greeting to Jack, parting his sharp-toothed mouth.

 

Jack stared. “A what?”

 

Hiccup shrugged. “I didn’t pick the species name, you can thank Tuffnut for that,” he said drily. Chuffing, Torch blinked his orange eyes at the prince and crooned, nudging his large white head underneath his arm, making Hiccup laugh and Toothless scowl.

 

Jack raised an eyebrow at the Night Fury’s disgruntled growls, green eyes narrowed grumpily at the giant dragon, and although the dragon didn’t look happy about all of this attention Hiccup was getting, he wasn’t rushing forward to attack Torch.

 

He knew that dragons weren’t to be feared, but.. well, this dragon in particular was **huge** , so much bigger than any of the dragons he’d seen so far. Torch could probably dwarf the auburn dragon with little to no effort and a single beat of his wings could send him flying away.

 

Rolling his bottom lip, Jack took a gentle step forward. The muscles in his shoulders tightened when Torch’s orange eyes lifted to him. Jack swallowed.

 

Those horns could gore an ox with minimal effort...

 

The snow crunched underneath Hiccup’s boots as he stepped back, lowering his hand, and Torch’s height and sheer size were emphasized when he lifted his head, stretching his long, white-scaled neck, and tilted it in Jack’s direction as he stood next to the prince. A curious rumble vibrated in the dragon’s throat. The dragon’s blinking, inquisitive expression was almost childlike.

 

“He’s big,” Jack said stupidly.

 

Hiccup chuckled, crossing his arms across his chest. “Well, he is _now_. Wasn’t quite that big when I met him for the first time.”

 

Brows furrowed, Jack looked at the other male.

 

The prince read the question written on his face and an easy smile grew. “He was only a baby when I first met him, maybe about..” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, brows furrowed behind the mask. “Three-ish months old? He was injured and I’d never seen a dragon like him before, so I took him home with me for a while so that he could heal and we could study him.”

 

Toothless let out a particularly dignified sniff, followed by a grunt and a scratching of his claws into the frozen ground, and Jack raised an eyebrow at the Night Fury.

 

“Can’t imagine that Toothless liked that much,” he said, tone dry. Amusement laced through his deadpan tone and he smiled faintly at Hiccup rolling his eyes.

 

“Oh, no, he was a giant baby about it,” he said, shaking his head. A louder grunt from his dragon was his response. “Correction. _Still_ a giant baby about it.”

 

Hiccup yelped when a round ball of snow suddenly hit the back of his head.

 

Toothless growled lowly in deep-throated satisfaction as the prince bat the snow out of his hair, some of it falling past his collar. “Ah! _Cold cold_ ** _cold_** \--!”

 

Torch chuffed a draconic laugh.

 

Jack couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing.

 

Once the prince was done chiding Toothless for throwing snow at him out of a jealous fit and the Night Fury was finished snorting at him in that petulant, Toothless-y way, Hiccup sat down with Jack and told him the story of how he’d met Torch. Tired of being grumpy with his rider (and partly wanting to show off his closeness with him), Toothless curled up by Hiccup’s side and Torch laid down behind him, resting his head on the ground and watching the pair of humans as Hiccup told the story.

 

It didn’t take long for Jack to get used to Torch’s massive size, and after several minutes of hesitantly patting Torch’s nose, watching the sharp horns warily, the Typhoomerang felt comfortable enough to rest his chin on Jack’s knees. He rumbled a purr as Jack lazily stroked the top of his head. Hiccup was an animated storyteller and Jack saw no reason to interrupt the prince with questions, content to listen with an interested smile.

 

“You guys must’ve been pretty busy after all the dragons integrated,” Jack said once Hiccup was finished. “And to take on taking care of a baby dragon from a species you didn’t even know yet?” He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a lot on your plate.”

 

Toothless snorted through his nostrils and Hiccup shook his head at his dragon’s behavior, grinning faintly. “I couldn’t just leave him there, all injured like that.” He shrugged. “He was helpless and I couldn’t _not_ help him.”

 

Torch lifted his head and parted his mouth to growl-purr at Hiccup.

 

_Dear gods,_ Jack thought, _he’s got a bleeding heart_.

 

The prince rolled his eyes, bopped Toothless’s nose, much to the dragon’s protest, and called him a ‘ _big baby boo_.’ Jack noticed it was something he called Toothless often. He smiled.

 

“Even though you made his mom mad,” Jack said, raising his eyebrows. His grin turned teasing and he narrowed his eyes in amusement when he saw Hiccup’s ears flush pink.

 

“It’s not like I _meant_ to piss her off!” He retorted. “I thought he’d been abandoned or something, but if I’d known his mom was around I would’ve taken him back to her sooner!”

 

Then there was the issue of Torch wanting to stay with Hiccup, something the prince had mentioned, only making the then-baby dragon’s mother angrier. Jack could see the dilemma.

 

Still, Hiccup’s care and concern for a dragon that he didn’t know and could’ve hurt him, even in the face of that dragon’s very angry mother..

 

Well, it was **cute**.

 

Chuckling, Jack shook his head and waved the other male off. Hiccup quieted as Jack sat up, shifted and faced him. He was smiling.

 

“I know, I know,” he said. “Believe me, I can tell. You wouldn’t have hurt a hair on his head.” A beat. “Well, if he _had_ hair anyway, but that’s beside the point.”

 

Torch trilled, confused, and Hiccup laughed.

 

Now that Hiccup was finished telling his story, Jack took the opportunity to ask Hiccup questions about his species that he hadn’t seen yet in the book, to which the prince happily abided to. Torch napped lazily and tried to get Toothless to play with him, to no avail, as the grumpy and jealous Night Fury cared more about staking his claim on his rider than playing with a dragon several dragon years his junior, no matter how big he was now.

 

Sharp, high-pitched trills and roars echoed over the tree tops and Torch stood on his legs, blinking orange eyes, and lifted his head to the sky.

 

Standing up, Hiccup held out his hands and Torch lowered his chin into the prince’s palms. Hiccup’s strokes were gentle along his nose, and his voice was soft.

 

“Take care, you big lug. I’ll see you soon.”

 

Blinking slowly, Torch purred.

 

Grunting and grudgingly though he did, Toothless gently butt his head against Torch’s as a goodbye, much to the larger dragon’s delight. Then Jack was struck still again as a large, white-scaled head lowered down to meet him at eye level. His head hovered in front of him, breathing noisily, and waited.

 

Jack glanced at Hiccup.

 

The prince nodded, smiling.

 

A hand extended to rub the underside of Torch’s jaw, and the Typhoomerang’s scales were cool against his palm. Smooth and unmarred. Young scales.

 

“It was nice meeting you, Torch,” Jack said. He grinned at the low warble the dragon gave. “Hopefully we can hang out again, soon.”

 

Torch gave a happy croon, giving his version of a draconic smile, and pulled away.

 

Jack was only a little taken aback when Hiccup suddenly urged him to take several steps back, guiding him with hands on his upper arms. He nearly stumbled out of surprise, snow digging into the underside of his boots, and Toothless’s large black wing shielded them when sparks started flying, melting the snow and scorching some of the earth.

 

Torch rumbled deep in his chest as he flew in circles, accelerating with each spin and turn until, with a sudden crack of fire and the beat of wings, he flew up into the air, leaving a scorched spiral in the middle of the open field.

 

Widened brown eyes stared as the dragon disappeared above the trees.

 

“Whoa,” he breathed.

 

Hiccup grinned wryly, and Toothless snorted.

 

Jack rubbed the back of his hair. “I can see why Tuffnut named his breed ‘Typhoomerang.” _Damn._

 

The prince shrugged, wiping off snow from his shoulder pads. “Yeah, dumb as it seemed at the time, it’s pretty fitting. Tuffnut can be innovative like that. ...When he wants to be, anyway.”

 

Snorting, Jack brushed away bits of frost hanging on to the tips of his hair.

 

He would never know what Hiccup had planned next, if he had anything in mind at all besides perhaps flying them back to the manor, because just as he brushed the last bits of ice out of his locks, a single snowflake fell onto the tip of his nose.

 

Pausing, Jack watched the little flake melt from the warmth of his skin, and then looked up at the sky.

 

He blinked snowflakes out of his eyelashes and his lips parted into a wide smile.

 

Brows furrowed beneath his mask, Hiccup watched the brightening of Jack’s face, the way his lips curled upwards so widely, and the light flush of his cheeks as the other male watched the flakes fall from the sky.

 

The grin still present on his face, Jack sighed and lowered himself down to his knees again, only to then fall back onto the snow-coated ground. Jack watched the thicker flakes fall and melt onto the warmth of his cloak, scarf, and skin. The snow began to fall more heavily, the clouds thick and heavy with frozen water, all in such unique shapes and sizes. More fell on his nose and he closed his eyes.

 

Toothless tilted his head at Jack, curious, and rumbled softly deep in his chest. He blinked, then watched his rider step towards the other human.

 

Jack heard the crunch of the snow underneath Hiccup’s boots as he stepped forward. Brown eyes slit open to see the prince leaning over him, a bemused smile playing on the other male’s thin lips.

 

Jack looked up at him, the other male’s shadow falling over his face. “It’s snowing,” he said simply.

 

Hiccup laughed through his nose, a little exhale and crinkling of his eyes.

 

Jack could practically see the other male’s brow rising behind his leather mask.

 

“That it is,” Hiccup said glibly. “It does that often around here, seeing as we’re kinda still in the middle of winter.”

 

Jack’s smile widened and his eyes lifted back to the cloud-laden skies and the thick flakes that fell on his lashes, melting from his breath and landing in his hair. His eyes closed and he heard Hiccup lower to the ground beside him.

 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Jack said, eyes still closed. “But I don’t think it’s ever snowed _this_ much back in Burgess.” He stretched a hand to the sky, palm open to catch the snowflakes. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen it snow here, though.”

 

Hiccup hummed. “We’re lucky that it’s not a blizzard or something, yet. All things considered, this is a pretty light snow and after months of storms, this is..” He smiled, looking down at the other male lying in the snow. “It’s nice.”

 

“Yeah,” Jack murmured. “It is.”

 

Emma would’ve loved to play in the snow here. Maybe they could’ve gone exploring through the woods that lined Berk’s village, or gone to see the cold waves crash against the rocks, how the sea foam froze as it flew off the surface of the water. They would’ve made angels in the snow, built snowmen, or snow-dragons in Emma’s case. The winter the auburn dragon was with them, she’d made so many dragons out of the snow, drawing shapes, wings and horns into the white-coated ground. The auburn dragon would watch her over her shoulder, cooing and butting her nose gently when she patted his snout.

 

Those days... they were fun.

 

He missed them.

 

Breathing through his nose, Jack exhaled and let the constricting feeling in his chest relax. Brown eyes fluttered open and stared up at the sky, the smile having faded.

 

He didn’t see how Hiccup was staring at him, his lips pursed into an unreadable line. Brows knit behind his mask and the lines around his eyes were somewhat tightened.

 

Toothless stared at the pair of humans, a soft rumble vibrating in his chest, and sensing the change in the air between Hiccup and Jack, the Night Fury quietly moved forward to nudge his snout underneath Hiccup’s elbow. His green eyes closed when Hiccup gently stroked the tip of his nose; a silent _Thank you_ , an unspoken, _I’m okay_.

 

Silence was held between them for an unaccounted stretch of time as the snow fell around them. Jack blinked the flakes out of his eyes and let the snow frost around the tip of his hair, hovering above the skin of his face and his eyelashes. Snow was falling into small piles on Hiccup’s shoulders and hair, which he gently swiped off with the tips of his fingers.

 

When the snow began to seep through his clothing and pierce at his skin, wet and biting, Jack finally sat up and brushed it off. He pulled his cloak closer around himself and picked traces of half-melted snow out of his hair. Shifting where he sat, Jack glanced at the prince and found Hiccup still looking at him. Just out of the corner of his eyes, green eyes so warm in the cold air around them as they gazed at his face with an intensity that caught Jack off-guard. The back of his collar began to feel warm.

 

Blinking, Jack cleared his throat and shifted to face him properly.

 

“What do we do now?” He asked.

 

As if being pulled out of some kind of stupor, Hiccup gave a wide blink of his eyes and started, sitting up straighter. The prince cleared his throat and the Night Fury watched as his rider stood up, patting the snow off of his trousers.

 

“I guess what we can do now is fly back. It’s getting late, and I think we’ve been out longer than I originally planned.” Hiccup smiled, but it was small. The curl of his mouth was one that almost appeared reluctant. “I don’t think I’ve got anything else in mind tonight.”

 

Jack hummed. “Then, I suppose we should get ready to go then.”

 

Hiccup made an affirmative noise of agreement, nodded, and with a small sigh, stretched out his arms to get ready to fly once more.

 

As Hiccup got ready, Jack frowned and remained seated.

 

Jack wondered if princes got to make snow-dragons, ice-skate or hide behind forts made of ice and snow under the gray light of mid-winter, laughing until their cheeks were pink and the tips of their noses were bright red. He wondered if princes had to stay holed up in their large, cold, almost empty castles and manors during the winter when they could be outside having fun instead of doing all that boring stuff princes were supposed to do. Jack didn’t know what Hiccup did, something that aggravated him, but he was sure that it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as flying.

 

Hiccup loved flying, and he loved Toothless. He had the most fun while flying, from what Jack could garner. He became most spirited when talking about Toothless and all the other dragons.

 

And for some reason, Jack held the prince’s heart in his hands. Something he was not sure what to do with.

 

A frown fell on Jack’s lips as he watched Hiccup begin to reach for his helmet, resting on a tree stump he’d used to sit on earlier, after adjusting the straps of his suit. His fingers curled in the snow, wanting to cling to the ground so they didn’t have to leave because he was still so wide awake, and he blinked when all the snow in his palm rolled into a ball.

 

The snow bunched together in his fingers and he looked up at Hiccup’s retreating back.

 

A devious grin formed on his lips.

 

Hiccup was adjusting the straps on Toothless’s saddle, making sure the cold and the snow didn’t make any of the joints and cogs lock up. He had to make sure that it would be safe to fly, especially since it was late and the snow made it darker to see; Hiccup wouldn’t be so cautious and meticulous if it was just himself (though he would make sure that the prosthetic always worked and was safe; he’d learned his lesson when he wound up falling almost head first into a mountain peak that first test run with Toothless’s finished prosthetic tail), but since Jack was riding with him, he had to make absolutely sure.

 

And that left him exposed and vulnerable to clever, quick fingers, and a toothy smile full of mischief.

 

Looking over his rider’s shoulder, Toothless’s eyes widened and he gave a high-pitched warble that had Hiccup’s brows furrowing. Stroking the dragon’s neck, he began to ask what was wrong--

 

When something wet, a little hard, and very, very cold smacked into the back of his neck.

 

Toothless’s ears fell against his skull and he winced at his rider’s loud, high-pitched yelp.

 

“WHAT-- What even--!?” Hiccup shouted, trying to get the snow out of his hair and collar. “ _Aughhh_ that’s cold--!”

 

He paused at a sudden shriek of laughter.

 

Flinching through the biting cold of the snow against his skin, Hiccup turned and squinted at the sight of Jack clutching his stomach, his face turning pink with laughter. Hiccup noticed that his hands were pinker than they were before, likely because of the cold.

 

Jack continued to laugh and Hiccup’s eyes narrowed.

 

_Oh, is_ **_that_ ** _how it’s gonna be? Well, fine then._

 

Toothless’s green eyes narrowed as his rider kneeled down to the ground, a grin showing off his teeth as he gathered snow in his hands.

 

Brushing his bangs out of his face and slapping his hands together for a job well done, Jack’s laughter began to die down into soft chuckles and he started walking towards the other male when he suddenly got a face full of snow.

 

It was Jack’s turn to splutter and shriek at the sudden wet cold sticking to his face, swiping the snow out of his eyes in the midst of sudden laughter.

 

Snow still crusting on his eyelashes, Jack squinted through his now damp hair and the falling snow to see a rather smug looking prince tossing a snowball back and forth in the air. Hiccup’s grin was toothy and wide, a pink flush from the cold on the exposed skin of his face.

 

Heart racing as his eyes narrowed, Jack slowly lowered himself back to the ground and rolled another ball of snow in his hands. He felt Hiccup’s green eyes on him and Jack noticedd a strange warmth blossoming in his chest, stretching its tendrils to his fingertips, despite the cold around them. A grin spread wide on his lips.

 

“You’ve made the biggest mistake in your life just now,” Jack warned.

 

Hiccup’s grin stretched into a teasing smirk as he hunched forward slightly, clutching the snowball in his hands. “ _Oh?_ And what is that, exactly?”

 

Jack smirked. “You just started a snowball fight with **me.** ”

 

Green-eyes half-lidded, Hiccup raised his eyebrows at the other male, the grin still on his lips, and jerked his chin at Jack, a wordless gesture.

 

_Bring it on._

 

Years down the road, when they recollected the story together, Hiccup would say that Jack was the one who started the fight by throwing the first snowball, whereas Jack would say that the prince had it coming for being such a no-fun wet blanket and an easy to hit target. But the cause was forgotten as snowballs flew across the open field, hitting shoulders, chests, legs, upper arms and occasionally their faces, laughing and goading each other on while they chased each other through the snow, carrying piles of snowballs with them.

 

Toothless pranced about the snow, kicking up dusty white clouds as the two humans ran around him, watching the white cannonballs fly over the dragon’s head, his tongue lolling out at his rider’s contagious mirth and happiness.

 

The Night Fury could smell their laughter in the air between them.

 

Warm, comfortable, a bridging of uncertainty that brought two near-strangers closer to each other.

 

Something full of unbridled affection in its gradual growth.

 

Toothless squawked when a snowball hit his neck, and with a narrowing of his glowing green eyes, he joined the fight and began using his tail and his wings to throw waves of the soft, frozen water at the pair of them. Hiccup’s shouts were filled with laughter as he told his dragon to stop ganging up on him and take his side in the great snowball fight, and Jack’s battle cry rang through the night sky as he tackled the prince into a large pile of snow. The two young men wrestled, shoving haphazard handfuls of snow into each others faces, until they were near shrieking with laughter, faces bright pink.

 

They would return to the manor nearly an hour later shivering and wet, but their cheeks would be flushed a deep pink from laughter and breathless fun. Their mouths would be sore and tired, but they would go to sleep in exhausted contentment.

 

Warm in his bed, Toothless’s large form wrapped around him, keeping his rider safe, Hiccup fell asleep faster than he had in years. Never had he slept so well, nor could he remember ever smiling so much.

 

How long had it been since he last got to have fun?

 

As sleep welcomed him in its arms, he thought of Jack’s smile and laughter and allowed himself hope.

 

Back against the mattress, Jack stared at the ceiling and smiled as he listened to the crackle of the fire. The flames dancing on the walls made his eyelids heavy and he fell asleep to the sound of Hiccup’s rippling laughter.

 

It was a sound he hoped to hear more of.

 

\---

 

Sharpshot purred and her orange eyes fluttered closed as Emma absently scratched underneath her chin, the little dragon leaning into the girl’s touch.

 

Emma’s quill joined in a chorus with the Terrible Terror’s little noises, her brown eyes focused on the parchment before her as the words scritched across in curves of ink. A letter had already been tied to one of Sharpshot’s claws, belonging to her mother, and she was just finishing up hers. By the time she was done, her right hand was sore and she had splatters of ink on her fingertips. She put the ink and quill away, blew on the ink to dry it, then rolled the parchment up before tying it to Sharpshot’s claw.

 

She gave the Terrible Terror a piece of dried salmon, which the dragon devoured. Sharpshot chittered, nuzzled the girl’s cheek, and then with a chirrup, spread her wings and took off out of the open window. Emma watched the little dragon fly away until she disappeared into the clouds. She ran her fingers over the newly refurnished windowpane and looked out onto the open white-covered fields and the pines blanketed with snow. Once Sharpshot was gone, Emma grabbed Jack’s letter and left her room to sit in front of the fire to reread it for the twelfth time.

 

A thick fur rug was laid in front of the fireplace, keeping Emma warm as she read Jack’s letter; a gift left in front of their doorstep days after Jack had gone, along with several packages full of fresh foods, grains and salted meats. Katherine no longer had to worry about keeping herself and her daughter fed, even with one less mouth to feed.

 

Emma saw the skepticism on her mother’s face the first day after Jack had flown away on the back of the auburn dragon, unsure if the prince would truly fulfill his promise. Said gifts along with a meaningful sum of money for Katherine to use in the marketplace arrived only days later, and the woman’s doubt ebbed over the two weeks since Jack’s departure.

 

A lump formed in her throat as Emma read the last few sentences of Jack’s letter and she sniffed, blinking back the wetness in her eyes as she folded the letter.

 

The house was so quiet without Jack.

 

Her room felt empty now that she no longer shared it with her brother. Emma wondered if he missed it as much as she did, or if he was enjoying not having to share a room anymore. She wondered if he’d share a room with Prince Håkon once they were married.

 

And she wondered what Hiccup was like.

 

She hoped he was nice.

 

Looking out the window at the setting sun behind the treetops of the forest outside their home, Emma hoped that her letter, along with their mother’s, reached him safely, and soon.

 

_Jack,_

 

_Mom and I are okay! Just two days after you left, someone left a bunch of gifts, food and other stuff at our door! I didn’t get to see who it was, but I thought I saw something black fly away when Mom opened the door. It’s quiet here, though. We miss you. It’s not the same without you running around and being loud and annoying. And I miss the dragon, is he okay? Has he been eating well? You’ve been taking care of him, haven’t you? I can’t keep an eye on you to make sure he stays fed!_

_Do kids really get to train to ride dragons? That’s not fair! I want to be able to ride and train one, too.. Snotlout sounds like a jerk, I hope the dragon beat him up good._

 

Emma looked up from the fire when she heard the door open and close, her mother’s boots against the wooden floor and the fabrics she’d bought at the market laid across the table, ready to be woven together in various colors.

 

Katherine took off her coat and scarf to join her daughter in front of the fire. Without words, Emma leaned against her mother, Katherine’s arm looped around Emma’s shoulders as they thought of the boy who’d brought so much joy and laughter into their lives, a missing piece of their home.

 

Eyes heavy and half-lidded, Emma nuzzled against her mother’s side and fell asleep imagining a tall, masked prince with auburn red hair and summer green eyes, riding the back of a mighty black dragon.

 

_Can you tell me a bit more about Hiccup?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo i cheated a little with the retelling of HTTYD1 with this fic and let it be a flashback from Hiccup's pov, but i hope that it's cohesive and enjoyable! and yessss the romance slowly begins to build and walls are being broken down hehehe.
> 
> i love Torch and Sharpshot. more of them, more of them i say!
> 
> as always, a thank you to my wonderful beta-reader, Adrian, and a thank you to you all for reading! i hope you guys enjoyed it!


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even as feelings grow, questions enveloped by fears need to be said and be answered.

The winter of Berk was long. Winter in Burgess stretched and breathed over the little village from late October to as late as early April some years, dazzling the land with little snowfalls until winter finally gave way to warm spring. But winter in Burgess at the time of late February was rarely ever so cold as in Berk. When Jack stepped outside, he had to hold his cloak close to himself and, sometimes, his teeth would chatter but he would smile because the cold made his blood feel ever warmer as it rushed through his veins, aching to keep him warm.

 

Jack was growing to love the winter of Berk.

 

The people of Burgess had an apathy for the snow and winter that lasted for months that Jack did not share. They saw the snow as something of a nuisance, and their sighs were ones of dread when the first winds of winter came to shudder against their doors. The children would squeal with glee when the first snowfalls came, rolling about in the white softness, creating shapes and people out of the ice and packed snow, but even they would grow restless, bored and tired of the white blanket that laid itself over Burgess. The children waited for the spring to return so they could play outside once more and the people of Burgess waited for the harvest to return. The seeds they’d plant upon the awakening of spring bursting into the food they would need for the next winter. The cycle would turn and repeat as it always did, and the people of Burgess would sigh with relief with the next coming of spring.

 

Jack always saw the dying of winter as something sad, like a beautiful object slowly weathering and decaying over time, melting back into the ground so it could sleep. Jack saw winter’s end like the bears at the beginning of winter’s rule; a hibernation for the cold to return.

 

Jack knew that his love for winter wasn’t something that everyone shared. He was fine with that.

 

The Berkians took an altogether different approach to the winter and the snow, he’d noticed. They treated the winter much as they did the seas; a force of nature all on its own that bowed to no man, whether they be peasant or king. A force of being that could be both beautiful and destructive in its existence and the Berkians understood that. Perhaps they did not love the winter as they did the seas, but they respected it as a force to be reckoned with and learned to live alongside winter, not to fight against it.

 

Hiccup once told him of an avalanche that’d happened several years ago, one that he’d been a victim of. It’d been less than a year after the vikings and the dragons found peace with each other. He’d been sliding down the mountain on a plank of wood, something that had Jack’s eyebrows raised high on his forehead, much to the prince’s bemusement. The mountain shook from too much snow and rain collecting on the peak, and released a deadly wave of ice down the slopes.

 

If it weren’t for Toothless, Hiccup had told him with a bland, rather blasé tone of voice, he probably would’ve either frozen to death underneath all of the ice or would’ve died on impact.

 

Jack had looked at him with horror, but Hiccup shrugged off his apparent near-death experience and said, “It’s the mountains and it snows here nearly nine months of the year, it’s something that just happens. We just have to be prepared in case it does.”

 

The people of Berk respected winter, the mountains, and the very might of nature. They learned to live alongside it and now, with the help of their dragons, beasts that knew of nature more intimately than humankind ever could, they could thrive beside it.

 

It was something else about Berk that Jack had come to see with affection.

 

A part of him already loved Berk for its rustic wildness, the closeness to the sea and how Jack could smell the water on the cold air, and most of all; how Berk was evidence that man and dragon could live together in peace.

 

Jack still missed Burgess. He missed his mother and sister with an ache that sunk deep into his stomach, clenched tight in his chest. As the sun set, he’d wait to see Sharpshot return with a letter from both of them, practically ripping open the envelope when the little dragon dropped it into his open palms. He’d lay back on the mattress and read the letters over and over again before Hiccup would knock on his door and take him down to dinner or on whatever excursions the prince had in mind for them that night.

 

The longing for home was always there. A constant ache for the familiarity of the little hamlet of Burgess, his modest home just outside of the woods, and the fields he and Emma would make snow angels and create snowmen in. He missed his mother’s warm, work-hardened hands and Emma’s bright hazel eyes as she sat on the auburn dragon’s back, the water of the lake sloshing against the dragon’s sides. It was an ache that Jack was sure would never quite go away. He would always feel a wistful longing for the home he’d known and grown up in.

 

But it was an ache that, as the nights spent in the ink-dark sky on the back of a black-scaled dragon passed, became less consuming.

 

Hiccup and Jack didn’t always go flying after dinner, and the prince didn’t introduce him to a new dragon companion every night, but rare was a night that _wasn’t_ spent with Hiccup. When they weren’t flying or walking about the village, some nights would be spent quietly in the library that smelled like the sea or in the sitting room, just talking. Sometimes, they wouldn’t talk much at all, and that was okay. They would sit, take a book off of the shelves and read. Toothless would curl up against Hiccup’s side and the prince would absently stroke at the dragon’s scales. Jack would run his fingers along the spine of the book which felt grainy, as if salt from the sea had stuck onto the leather-bound spiral.

 

A lot had changed since that night in the cove.

 

Now, Jack reasoned that he could think of the prince as a friend. It was a thought that made him smile.

 

But for all of their growing friendship and the gradual easiness of their encounters and nights spent together, there was one Rumblehorn in the room that neither Hiccup nor himself addressed; they were _engaged_ and no talk had been made of **when** they were going to be married.

 

That wasn’t to say that it _wasn’t_ talked of, at least by those who weren’t Jack or Hiccup; the twins had taken to teasing him quietly under their breaths during dragon training about his soon-to-be-marrying of a complete and utter dork and loser, so they called their prince, wishing him the best of luck with a prince who had a spastic attention span. Jack forced himself not to take their words seriously and brushed them off with a wan smile and a shrug, choosing to focus on their sharklike grins of teasing rather than the truth laid in what they said.

 

Astrid and Fishlegs were kind enough to not bring it up during the day, which he appreciated, and Snotlout left him alone for the most part. Jack ignored the derisive looks he’d receive from him, silent as they were.

 

It was a little harder to ignore the inquiries of the children, especially the ever talkative and curious Jamie, and Jack had to force a smile through the questions by changing the subject abruptly. The auburn dragon was often a help to him, distracting the children by playing with them and letting them all climb on his back.

 

Squealing, they would plead _Fly! Fly! Fly! Please!_ and the auburn dragon would fly low around the arena, just a few meters above the ground. Jack followed and watched them with a bemused smile, chiding the dragon when it seemed he was about to fly too high and made sure that none of the kids fell off. The dragon’s chuffs and the children’s laughter made him smile; although there was one time when Sophie, giggling, leapt off of the dragon’s back and into Jack’s arms, causing Jack to squawk in alarm and the dragon to give a high-pitched warble.

 

She landed safely in Jack’s arms, but just in case, the auburn dragon had been ready to dive down and catch the back of her clothing between his teeth.

 

“You’d be a great babysitter,” Jack teased, earning a draconic glare and a huff into his hair.

 

Most of the time, the children would be too occupied by dragon training activities and playing with each other to ask Jack about the prince. But then, once they’d grown bored enough, the attention would turn onto him and the inquiries would begin, ones that Jack couldn’t escape.

 

Pippa was the first to ask, playing with the end of her scarf as she stared up at Jack shyly from underneath her bangs. “When are you and Prince Håkon getting married?”

 

Fingers stilled against the auburn dragon’s scales, stopping in their stroking underneath the dragon’s chin, and Jack’s smile froze.

 

“Oh, well..” he said, scrambling to keep his smile afloat. “You see, about that..”

 

While he struggled for something to say to Pippa, not wanting to lie to her whilst also not eager to answer, he didn’t notice the auburn dragon’s muscles stiffening beneath his touch. Green eyes slit open and stared at the young, brown-haired human, smelling the nervousness that wafted off of him.

 

“Aren’t they already married?” Caleb asked, dark brows furrowed as he looked at his twin, interrupting Jack before he could finish.

 

Scoffing, his twin rolled his eyes and punched his shoulder lightly. “No, stupid, they’re not! We would’ve known if they had! There would’ve been a big ceremony and party already!”

 

“Oh,” Jack said weakly. He went ignored by the bickering twins.

 

A dragon race thrown in his honor already set his nerves off enough, and when they finally married, there would be _another_ big party thrown at their wedding. His head spun.

 

Gods knew what that would do to his nerves.

 

The dragon’s green eyes closed and he groaned, lowering his head to the ground and placing a large claw over his face. Stormfly’s babies squawked at him, chirping and tapping their snouts against his side in confusion and curiosity. The auburn dragon ignored them and let the babies use their teeth to tug at his tail.

 

Cupcake frowned, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “Momma always giggles really weirdly whenever we have those big parties. She always drinks that gross, smelly stuff when they happen...”

 

And there would be excessive drinking. Wonderful.

 

Gods, his mother was right about the viking’s love for ale.

 

Faintly, Jack wondered what kind of drunk Hiccup would be.

 

Jamie rubbed the back of his head, lips pursed into a confused line. “Mom hasn’t said much about it either...” Brown eyes looked up at Jack inquisitively, and he sidled up to the older boy’s side. “When _are_ you gonna get married?”

 

Jack’s mouth opened and closed. He stared down at the hand in his lap, rubbing his fingers together.

 

Between the dragon’s claws, a single green eye opened.

 

Jack’s smile was superficially bright as he looked at Jamie. “Well, I imagine it’ll be soon, won’t it?” His eyes narrowed playfully and he leaned in closer to the boy. “You sound awfully eager for it.”

 

Jamie’s cheeks colored and, huffing, he crossed his arms across his chest. “Yeah! Well-!” He squeaked. “We almost never see Hiccup, he’s always busy! And when you two get married, he might be around more!”

 

Jack’s smile wavered and began to fall; that wasn’t the answer he’d expected.

 

The claw fell away from the auburn dragon’s face and the dragon raised his head to look down at the younger boy.

 

Nodding, Monty tugged on a strand of his hair abselty. “Mom said he used to be in charge of dragon training, but he doesn’t really teach lessons anymore.”

 

“He does sometimes!” Pippa interjected.

 

Cupcake frowned. “But only at nighttime and when it’s too late for us..”

 

_Well_ , Jack thought with a frown. _That explains a lot._

 

“And he might let me ride on Toothless’s back once you two are married and he’s around more!” Jamie said brightly, grinning.

 

Jack heard the auburn dragon huff with amusement and Jack’s smile returned, more relaxed. He ruffled the boy’s hair. “I’ll talk to him about it,” he said, part teasing and part truthful. “And he might just let you.”

 

The auburn dragon rumbled in what Jack supposed was thoughtful agreement and with a smile, Jack stroked the dragon’s neck. The children distracted themselves with talk of riding dragons and an argument about which dragon was the ‘coolest,’ as Jamie put it, and talk of Jack’s marriage to their prince was forgotten.

 

Jack did not forget.

 

He’d been able to put aside the reality of his purpose for being in Berk with nights spent in the sky, nights of easy chatter and banter, and days of learning ever more about dragons, but now he’d been given a stark reminder. Now, he was left to wonder; when _were_ they going to get married?

 

His questioning of the time of their impending marriage brought another thing to light that Jack had tried not to think about during the month of living in Berk; Hiccup’s feelings for him.

 

Feelings that Jack knew not what to do with.

 

-

 

The auburn dragon had been oddly quiet most of the day. Not unresponsive, just... quiet. Jack had grown so used to the dragon’s little chitters and warbles that the silence from him was jarring. Concerned, he stroked the dragon’s neck and asked if he was okay.

 

As if startled, the dragon blinked his green eyes, stared at him, and gave a familiar warble as he pressed his snout gently against Jack’s forehead.

 

_I’m all right_.

 

Jack smiled, stroked the dragon’s nose, and hoped that the dragon really was okay. He put the dragon’s odd silence behind him and told him goodnight when the dragon dropped him off at the front of the manor.

 

He went to his room to continue writing his next letter for his mother and Emma until the sun had fallen over the mountain peaks. The light of the fireplace lit his room and Jack reached for his coat, pondering over his not yet finished letter as he waited. He put his quill and ink away the moment he heard the knock on the door.

 

Jack felt the corners of his mouth curl upward.

 

Hands tucked at the small of his back, Hiccup’s smile was warm as he looked at him from underneath his auburn bangs.

 

\---

“What do you feel like doing today?” Hiccup asked, setting down his fork. He tossed a spare fish Toothless’s way without looking, and the Night Fury purred happily upon catching it between his teeth and gulping it down in seconds.

 

Leaning back in his seat, Jack stroked his chin and hummed thoughtfully. “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to heading towards the mountains and, what was it you said you did that one time..” He grinned. “ _Board_ down them?”

 

The prince beamed and Jack’s grin widened.

 

“Seeing as you already seem geared up and ready to go, I don’t see any point in wasting time,” the prince said, standing up. 

 

He grinned as Toothless chittered, the dragon tapping his claws against the wooden floors eagerly, and he reached for the flight suit he always carried around. He’d left it hanging on the back of his chair.

 

It had Jack wondering where exactly Hiccup went during the day sometimes. He always had it on hand at the ready.

 

When he led them downstairs, Hiccup started strapping the suit on and Jack tightened his cloak around his upper body and secured his boots.

 

He felt around in his pocket, ran his fingers over the curve of the compass, and sighed. His muscles relaxed at the familiarity of the cold metal, and he walked out the door, Hiccup and Toothless following suit.

 

The excitement buzzing between them was mutual, Jack could tell, and it made his grin widen. The thought of sliding down the slopes of the mountains and seeing the prince boarding down them on a shield or piece of wood was enough to allow him to forget about the children’s questions from earlier that day.

 

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to ask the same of Hiccup yet.

 

Jack chose to let excitement and the adrenaline swelling in his blood consume his thoughts.

 

Hiccup needed to grab the proper equipment to go boarding down the mountains, so Jack followed the prince through the front door of the manor, earning some raised eyebrows from Hiccup’s mother and father. Valka had a coy smile on her lips, green eyes narrowed slightly as if she knew what they were up to, and Stoick’s brows were furrowed in suspicion.

 

He simply told his son not to break or set anything on fire.

 

Jack raised an eyebrow at the prince and grinned as he saw the shells of his ears turn a bright red. 

 

Hiccup rolled his eyes, scoffed half-heartedly and walked through the doors, muttering about how he hadn’t broken anything in months. And he’d only set the house on fire that one time! It was an accident!

 

There was a small shed just a few yards away from the manor itself and Hiccup dug around inside, metal and other tidbits clanking together as he searched for the boards. His hair was slightly mussed from dust and moving about a cluttered space, but his crooked grin was wide and toothy.

 

Cocking his head at his rider, Toothless sniffed at Hiccup’s hair, scrunched his nose at the smell of dust, and sneezed. He sent the dust clouds flying.

 

Hiccup spluttered and coughed, batting the snow out of his face and muttering incomprehensibly under his breath.

 

Jack laughed.

 

The Night Fury sat still as Hiccup strapped the boards onto the saddle, and the prince patted the buckles in proud completion. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at Jack. “You ready?”

 

A soft chuckle left Jack as he walked forward. “I’ve _been_ ready for the past ten minutes, you just take too long.”

 

Hiccup snorted and rolled his eyes while Toothless huffed in agreement, earning a narrow-eyed look from his rider. The dragon slunk out through the door of the shed and Hiccup led himself and Jack outside. Hiccup almost missed the Night Fury’s ear fins twitching at the sound of something approaching, glowing green eyes blinking.

 

Hiccup frowned, looking up at his dragon when the Night Fury came to a sudden stop. “What is it, bud? Do you not wanna go anymore?”

 

Toothless looked at his rider and shook his head, lifting his nose to the night sky and warbling.

 

“Is something wrong?” Jack asked, some of his excitement deflating at Toothless’s sudden disinterest.

 

Hiccup ruffled his hair, his helmet positioned on his hip as he frowned down at his boots. “I dunno, he seems fine enough--”

 

He lifted his head and found himself staring into a pair of slit orange eyes.

 

Belch parted his mouth and breathed in the prince’s face.

 

Toothless’s ear-fins fell flat against his skull when the prince squawked, stumbling backwards onto his bottom.

 

“What the-- What in Odin’s--!?” He yelped. Green eyes narrowed. “ _Belch?_ ”

 

The dragon blinked at him and crooned happily in greeting. Another draconic head joined him, his twin whom warbled at the prince in equal amiability.

 

Having moved to go check on the prince at the sudden appearance of the two-headed dragon, recovering from being startled himself, Jack grasped the other male’s forearm to help him back up. Widened green eyes looked up at Jack in surprise, but Hiccup accepted the help with a small smile and a quiet ‘thanks.’

 

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, fingers still lightly curled around the prince’s padded forearm.

 

Hiccup nodded, smiling faintly. “Yeah, I’m fine, just got a little spooked.” After a short pause, the prince blinked and looked down at his forearm where pale fingers were still lightly gripping his padding.

 

Jack followed his stare, brows furrowed, and felt the back of his neck turn a faint pink. He let go and returned his hands to beneath his cloak, where they grasped the insides. He cleared his throat, willing for his sudden lingering touch to be forgotten. “So.. what was that all about?” He asked. He looked up at the Hideous Zippleback, who were now chittering amongst themselves, probably laughing at the two humans below that they’d scared. His brow thickened in confusion. “What’re they doing here?”

 

The prince shrugged, jolting when Barf suddenly leaned down to purr and rub his snout against Hiccup’s cheek, earning a disgruntled but resigned expression in return.

 

The prince patted the dragon’s neck and Toothless growled lowly in annoyance, whuffing at the two-headed dragon to go away. The other two dragons whined, trying to rest their chins on top of Hiccup’s shoulders, at which the prince sighed. He patted both of their cheeks and their loud croons shuddered in the air.

 

Jack wondered if Hiccup had some dragon variant of cat-nip hidden somewhere in his layers of leather padding and clothing. Amusing as it was, the sheer amount of love that almost all of the dragons had for the prince was simply... bizarre. 

 

And Barf and Belch were the _twins’s_ dragon! Wouldn’t they object to this kind of overt betrayal of love?

 

The prince shrugged once again, his arm now resting atop a rather grumpy Night Fury’s snout after the dragon slunk forward to assert his claim over the human. “Your guess is as good as mine,” Hiccup said. He patted the tip of Toothless’s nose, the black dragon having none too gently jostled the Hideous Zippleback away from his rider with a deep, low growl, his slightly possessive streak showing.

 

Jack took another step forward and raised an eyebrow at the two-headed dragon. Watching two pairs of orange eyes blink at him and the dragon tilting their two heads in his general direction, completely in sync, was eerie. “Do they.. normally come up to you this late in the day without their riders?” He asked slowly, swallowing as one of the dragon heads (he still had trouble figuring out which was which) lowered to look at him more closely.

 

The prince frowned and his green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “No..” he said, trepidation clear in his tone. “They don’t. In fact, they almost never come up here to see me by themselves--”

 

Well. Except for when Barf and Belch felt as if they owed a life debt to him the one time he saved them, but that was beside the point.

 

Sensing that the other human was a little uncomfortable with the Hideous Zippleback’s closer inspection of their new human acquaintance, Toothless gave the pair a low warning growl. The two-headed dragon gave an annoyed titter, but did as the other dragon said, even though they hissed at him. Toothless sniffed, satisfied.

 

“..At least, not without their riders,” Hiccup said. His tone was flat and he merely sighed at the raised eyebrow he received from the brown-haired male.

 

Jack blinked at the sudden authoritative (and rather annoyed) tone the prince took on as he said, “Okay you two, come out already.”

 

He jolted when he heard a pair of loud groans of disappointment, accompanied by grumbles filled with rather grotesque curses.

 

Barf and Belch chittered and crooned as their twin riders crawled out from underneath their dragon’s belly.

 

Tuffnut scowled as he pushed himself up onto his feet, “Dammit! You always catch us! What gave it away?”

 

“You breathe too loudly,” Hiccup said duly.

 

Jack snorted. He felt the hints of a smile forming on his mouth.

 

Toothless chuffed, rolling his eyes.

 

“That’s super creepy, Hiccup,” Ruffnut said, crossing her arms as she raised an eyebrow at the prince that was so uncharacteristically severe that it was comical. Her eyes narrowed. “Just so ya know, and besides, it’s your fault for trying to run off to go boarding!”

 

“And without us!” Tuffnut added helpfully, joining his sister in looking quite put out.

 

Hiccup felt a headache growing. He rubbed his temple, his fingers pressing against the leather of his mask and he sighed. “I hadn’t exactly planned on going with a _group_...” he muttered, feeling his annoyance steadily grow. “How did you even know that we were going?”

 

“Oh,” Tuffnut said. He grinned. “We didn’t. We just guessed.”

 

Snickering, the twins high-fived each other.

 

Hiccup wanted to rip out his own hair.

 

Jack stifled a snort of laughter behind his hand, smiling into his fingers. 

 

“Okay, so you both stalked me,” Hiccup droned. “Great. Fantastic. Good to know. All right, we’re gonna go now if you don’t mind.”

 

“Great! We’ll race you there,” Ruffnut smirked. “Whoever gets there last gets to eat our snow.”

 

Jack felt his shoulder muscles tense at the implication of _who_ would be joining them that night and his smile wavered. He lowered his fingers, hiding the frown behind them, to look at the prince. He saw the prince’s nostrils flare and green eyes closed as he breathed steadiliy.

 

“I didn’t exactly plan this with other company in mind..” Hiccup said slowly, green eyes opening and the hint of authority in his voice made the twins pause in their clamber atop the back of their dragon. “I was kind of hoping to go boarding with Jack.”

 

_And just him_ , the prince did not add.

 

Jack thought he saw the prince’s ears turn red and heard Hiccup clear his throat.

 

The mischievous glee on the twin’s faces fell into a frozen frowns, drawing the concerned attention of their dragon. Orange eyes turned to look at their riders. Belch and Barf gave quiet coos and growls full of question and some traces of worry.

 

Hiccup felt a tremor of guilt when Ruffnut scowled, her expression darkening after showing a flicker of _some_ kind of emotion he wasn’t used to seeing on her face, snorting and crossing her arms as she sat atop her saddle.

 

“Yeah, we get that,” she snapped. “But that’s all you’ve been doing for the past month. You don’t even come down to the arena to nag at us anymore! Not a single ‘Oh no, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, don’t do that!’” She imitated, emphasizing the nasal drawl of Hiccup’s voice, high-pitched and so cacophonic that it was hard for Jack to disguise a burst of laughter. “‘Don’t set the stables on fire again, that’s a safety hazard and a totally unfun thing to do because I’m a wet blanket and a mood-killer prince so do what I say!’”

 

“Where is this character coming from,” Hiccup muttered, “That sounds nothing like me...”

 

Leaning back with a scoff, Tuffnut folded his arms behind his head and frowned up at the stars. “Yeah, you almost never do anything with us anymore. But it’s not like we need you around to do anything fun!” He said, voice gaining a defensive edge that said more about what he actually felt than his words indicated.

 

Jack felt a frown tug down at his lips and his brows furrowed as he glanced at the prince, growing more uncomfortable with this situation by the second. He couldn’t help but feel as if he was partly responsible for whatever grief the twins had with Hiccup.

 

(He was, though not intentionally.)

 

Wincing, Hiccup bit his bottom lip and looked down at his boots.

 

Eyes creased, the Night Fury rumbled deep in his chest and nudged his nose against the prince’s elbow.

 

Patting the dragon’s nose, Hiccup exhaled, closing his eyes, and opened them again. He stared at the stubbornly irresponsive twins that were currently ignoring him, and turned to Jack.

 

“Would you be okay with them tagging along?” he asked, voice quiet and hushed so that the twins couldn’t overhear.

 

Jack’s eyebrows raised and he could not come up with an answer straight away. He turned his stare from Hiccup to the snow at his feet, to the twins, seeing Ruffnut picking her ear in an attempt at showing apathy towards the situation, then back to Hiccup. He pondered on her words and felt a tremor of guilt in his stomach.

 

Jack had arrived in Berk nearly a month ago. He only saw Hiccup at night, after the sun had set, and apart from meeting with his parents, Jack assumed that the prince spent most of his time with Toothless or with him. Every night, he’d spent hours with the prince, flying on Toothless’s back and being shown all around the outskirts of the village, meeting all of the dragons that Hiccup called his friends. He hadn’t given Hiccup’s other possible relationships much thought.

 

He remembered the playful vitriolic camaraderie and friendship shared amongst the dragon riders when they raced against each other his first night in Berk. Jack hadn’t seen Hiccup with anyone else besides himself and Toothless since.

 

Jack managed to curl a smile onto his face as small bits of shame towards himself settled in his stomach alongside a mild disappointment with the prince at his side, and he nodded. “Of course,” he said. “They can come along if they want, I don’t mind. They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

 

Blinking at the hint of admonishment that entered Jack’s tone (not scolding, but a gentle pushing), Hiccup looked at him carefully from beneath his bangs and behind the mask.

 

Jack watched a ghost of a smile, humble and small, flicker across the prince’s lips before he faced the twins again, taking a couple steps forward and drawing attention from the two-headed dragon.

 

“Okay,” Hiccup said, drawing out an exaggerated heavy sigh. “You guys can come along. It’s not very far, it’s just at the usual place where--”

 

Both Toothless and Jack jumped simultaneously when Tuffnut suddenly reared up and whooped, the noise echoing through the valley and making the prince wince at the sudden, sharp noise. “Great! Now all we gotta do is get Axe Lady, Fishlegs and Snot-Face and we’re all ready to go--”

 

“Whoa, wait a minute, I didn’t agree to this, I thought it would just be you two--”

 

“See ya in a bit, Prince Lovestruck Loser!” Ruffnut cackled with her twin, taking their shared dragon to the sky and laughing harder at the way Hiccup’s ears turned a bright shade of red, sticking out in the snow.

 

Jack felt the back of his neck flush at the pointed look the twins gave him, crooked grins wicked and wide on their lips. He let the snow pierce against his skin as the Hideous Zippleback kicked up clouds of the cold dust, engulfing the pair of young men before them as well as the irate Night Fury that snapped his jaws at the flakes and growled as Barf and Belch took flight.

 

The two young men were left to stand in the snow, the boards still strapped to a now restless Night Fury, and silence filled the air between them.

 

Hiccup stared after the twins and their dragon as they flew over the skyline of the village, a pinched frown on his lips before he sighed, closing his eyes as his shoulders sagged visibly. The snow crunched underneath his boots as he turned.

 

“Are you sure?” he asked, the frown still present. “If you don’t feel comfortable with them coming along, I can just tell them to get lost and find something else to do.”

 

The prince said it with such sincerity and a casual, unintentional humor that Jack had to hold back a chortle. Instead, he huffed a laugh through his nose and shook his head. He smiled. “Really, it’s all right with me if they want to come along, same goes for anyone else.” His smile widened into a grin and he rolled on the balls of his feet. “Who knows, it could be fun!”

 

Even with the mask on his face, the skepticism bled out of Hiccup with the lines around his eyes tightening and the clenching of his hands at his sides. “I guess..” he murmured.

 

The smile on Jack’s lips fell into an unreadable frown as he studied the prince’s stiff body language. “It seems like the twins and the others don’t see you very often,” Jack said, keeping his tone neutral.

 

Green eyes lifted to him. Hiccup was still frowning. “Well, I’ve been a bit busy lately, we all have..” he said. “They keep themselves busy with dragon training during the day; they don’t always have time for me.”

 

And whenever he _did_ have the time, it was spent with Jack, Toothless, and his parents. It was something left unsaid.

 

That didn’t settle well with Jack.

 

“They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

 

A pregnant pause. “Yeah. They are.”

 

Jack’s lips curved upwards, somber, as something like guilt flashed across the prince’s face, reflected in his green eyes as he looked down at his boots, shuffling them against the firm snow. His tone was warm and his voice was soft as he spoke. “Then I don’t mind them coming along with us. They probably miss you.”

 

Hiccup gave something akin to a soft scoff, but the curve to his mouth was unmistakable. It was a curious sound.

 

Jack was perturbed by the line of the prince’s lips that almost seemed sad.

 

Curious as he was about Hiccup’s history with the other dragon riders, his friends, he put that observation away for another time. Tucking his hands at the small of his back, he continued to offer the prince a warm smile, hoping that his firmly stated words, though softly spoken, got through to him.

 

A beat was held, and Hiccup gave a soft chuckle. He ran a hand through his hair, dragging the nails along his scalp and the bits of snow that stuck to his strands. “Well,” he said simply. “I miss them, too.”

 

Jack’s smile widened into a grin.

 

“Then shall we go?”

 

-

 

The change in atmosphere was instantaneous.

 

Not long after their departure had the twins reunited with Hiccup and Jack, accompanied by three other dragon riders. They hadn’t lingered in front of the shed for very long, only long enough for everyone to say hello to each other; Fishlegs and Astrid greeted Jack with smiles and warmth, Snotlout with a sniff and a wrinkling of his nose, but maintaining a civil distance (which Jack was perfectly content with).

 

Their interactions with Hiccup were another thing entirely.

 

Meatlug, Hookfang and Stormfly all went to him the moment they landed, cooing, purring and warbling softly as they butted their snouts against his shoulders, arms and back, much to the overwhelmed prince’s chagrin. Laughing breathily, he patted their snouts, rubbed their noses and walked backwards to his put-out Night Fury to console him.

 

Letting out a soft, annoyed growl, Toothless wrapped his slender tail around the prince’s legs and shot the other dragons a sharp glare.

 

Jack couldn’t stop his snicker at the jealousy that filtered through the ever-expressive dragon’s face.

 

Then, their riders began greeting Hiccup himself, and Jack was left to stare in wide-eyed wonder. The twins were the first, hopping off the back of their dragon to lightly shove their shoulders against his, earning a disgruntled glare from the prince that seemed more half-hearted than genuine, laughing, and with a ruffle of Hiccup’s already messy auburn hair, Tuffnut declared himself the one who convinced Hiccup to let them come along. 

 

Ruffnut made a bold statement right after about how she was going to beat him in a race down the slope, and she smirked at the competitive glint that entered the prince’s green eyes as he promised that he wouldn’t go easy on her.

 

Jack remembered that glint. He saw it the night of their first snowball fight.

 

Snotlout was comically short compared to the prince, but he stuck out his chest as if he were the one staring down at the other male, arms crossed over his torso as he sniffed.

 

Hiccup stared at him dully, eyes half-lidded.

 

Snotlout sneered. “Looks like you’re still a string-bean, _cousin_.” He smirked, light blue eyes glimmering with mirth. “Try not to get knocked over by a root or a stick when we’re out there racing, though I understand how hard that must be.”

 

Hiccup’s mouth twitched and his rebuttal was quick and sharp. “Do try not to run face-first into a tree or a rock this time, it might squish your face in even more than it already is.”

 

Jack was still hung up on one thing as Snotlout turned a distinct shade of red, his voice growing louder as he tried to cover up his embarrassment from the last botched attempt at racing the other male by further insulting the rather prim-looking prince; _cousins?_  


**Really?**

 

Brown eyes narrowed at the bickering pair, Hiccup’s voice steadily rising, much to the delight of the twins and the exasperation of their dragons.

 

He had a really hard time seeing the resemblance between the two, let alone anything that could ever indicate either of the two dragon riders being related in any way.

 

The sound of snow crunching beside him took him by surprise, having been absorbed in how strangely animated the prince was while he was arguing with Snotlout, their words filtering in one ear and out the other without Jack taking any meaning from them, and Jack jolted. He turned and saw Fishlegs giving him a meek, slightly embarrassed smile.

 

Watery blue eyes flickered towards the bickering cousins and back to him, and the taller male shrugged his shoulders.

 

Fishlegs didn’t entirely understand either. At least that was a bit comforting.

 

It was Astrid who wound up breaking up the bickering pair, removing Snotlout by grabbing one of the horns on his helmet and shoving him to the side with one pull, rolling her eyes as he loudly protested and cursed at her, and rapping Hiccup’s shoulder with the back of her knuckles, demanding that he knock it off; he was embarrassing himself in front of his beau, she said, a smirk playing on her lips as she lifted her eyebrows in Jack’s direction.

 

Jack ignored the heat collecting on the back of his neck as he gave a friendly wave towards Astrid, trying not to pay much attention to the reddening of Hiccup’s ears as he lowered his face, mortified, and rubbed the back of his head, mumbling an apology to her.

 

She shrugged it off with a faint grin, patting his shoulder and then placed her hands on her hips as she grinned at them all. “Well, are we just gonna linger here or are we actually going to head over the slopes?”

 

Straightening and rolling out his shoulder, Hiccup returned her grin with one of his own. “Depends. You lot ready to get creamed?”

 

Toothless purred as he shot the other dragons a challenging stare, his green eyes glittering with a competitiveness that he shared with his rider. The other dragons growled lowly, eyes narrowing as their riders loudly protested against Hiccup’s bold statement.

 

Jack could only watch with a distant amusement, the corners of his mouth not quite quirked upward, but a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He watched as the twins leapt onto the saddles of the Hideous Zippleback, Fishlegs cooed and stroked a warbling Meatlug’s neck before clambering on, Snotlout huffing as he strapped himself onto Hookfang, and Stormfly using her wing to help hoist Astrid onto her saddle.

 

Jack marveled at the change in the atmosphere around them; despite the biting words the twins, Snotlout, and Hiccup exchanged between each other, how Snotlout and Fishlegs argued and Astrid’s deadpan comments with a hint of friendly bite, there was a comfortable air amongst them. It reminded him of the race the first night he was in Berk.

 

An air of camaraderie, friendship, a familiarity that always felt a touch lost when one of the group wasn’t present.

 

As Hiccup helped him onto the back of Toothless’s saddle and Jack wrapped his arms around the prince’s waist, closing his eyes at the wind all around him as Toothless lifted into the air, Jack realized what’d been missing during all of those dragon training sessions;

 

Hiccup.

 

-

 

Jack was beginning to wonder if competitiveness was simply ingrained into all Berkians and vikings from birth. He watched with raised eyebrows, bemused, as the twins challenged each other to ride down the most dangerous slopes, playfully sword-fighting with their rickety looking boards. 

 

Astrid may have rolled her eyes at them, but when Snotlout challenged her to a race, Jack noticed the flaring of her nostrils and her narrowed blue eyes. He could practically feel the stomp in her steps when she grabbed a board, set it down on the ground and stepped onto it. She angled herself, bent her knees, and shot the smug looking Snotlout a fierce stare.

 

Both dragon riders shouted war cries as they raced down the slopes. Jack contented himself to watching as he absently stroked at Stormfly’s neck, who was watching her rider carefully, making sure that she didn’t hurt herself.

 

The twins were on another side of the mountain, racing and trying to knock each other over so that they skidded on their boards, then tumbled face first into a pile of snow. Barf and Belch were sliding alongside their riders. It made quite the amusing sight.

 

Fishlegs wasn’t using a board, but he whooped a shriek of joy and excitement as he sat on Meatlug’s back as the Gronkle slid down the slope, her tongue lolling out happily.

 

“I never thought Astrid would be so competitive,” Jack commented, watching as Astrid dodged Snotlout trying to knock her over as they slid down a particularly sharp and narrow path in the snow.

 

He heard an amused snort next to him. “Trust me, this is her being casually competitive. If she was being really competitive, Snotlout would’ve been creamed in minutes.”

 

Jack smiled as Hiccup stood next to him. Toothless was licking at his large paws, cleaning the sharp black claws and rubbing the back of his head, lightly scratching behind his ear-fins.

 

“Oh? Is that so?” Grinning, Jack tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at a sudden howl of victorious laughter, practically a cackle, as Snotlout wiped out on the mountain with a yelp. “If this is her being casual about it, I’d hate to see what she’s like when she gets serious about it.”

 

“Believe me, you would,” Hiccup said dryly, rubbing his bicep absentmindedly. “Her holding her axe to my neck is still a pretty vivid memory and I shan't care to repeat it, thanks.”

 

Narrowing his eyes, Jack tilted his head at the prince, a smile playing on his lips. “But you’re still competitive, too.”

 

The prince gave a shrug, not denying it. The grin that danced across his face told Jack that he was right.

 

“Why haven’t you gone down the slopes yet?” Hiccup asked.

 

The smile on Jack’s lips wavered. “Oh, well. I just wanted to watch first, see how everyone else did it before I gave it a try myself.”

 

Green eyes crinkled and it was Hiccup’s turn to tilt his head at Jack, confused. “Have you never done anything like this before?”

 

It was such an honest question that had no judgment behind it, but despite the lack of mocking disbelief, Jack still felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He looked down at the ground, scuffed the heel of his boot into the snow and cleared his throat before answering.

 

“Well, Burgess doesn’t really have mountains like this, so I didn’t really have any other opportunity to even try or consider something like boarding down one,” he said, attempting a smile that hopefully didn’t reveal too much of his embarrassment.

 

Hiccup stared at the other male in thoughtful silence.

 

Toothless’s ear-fins perked up when he felt his rider taking one of the boards strapped to his saddle off, and green eyes slit open to watch his human walk over to his bemused companion.

 

“Then I’ll teach you how to,” Hiccup grinned.

 

The slush of the snow beneath wooden boards was a blurred background noise to Jack as he stepped onto his somewhat rickety slab of wood, thinned and polished. It stuttered underneath his feet and he stumbled, unused to being so unbalanced; it was different from being on a thick layer of ice on a lake. While maintaining balance was essential to both, no matter how Jack slipped, he would still land on the ice and as long as it was thick enough, he’d be safe. He could not say the same for this once he started sliding down the slopes.

 

His nervousness echoed in his wobbling knees, the wooden board loud in its crunch on the snow from his moving about. It stopped with more weight pressed down on it, and Jack breathed harshly through his nose as tremors of fear left.

 

“Keep your legs bent apart,” Hiccup said softly in his ear. “Just enough so that it doesn’t rock underneath you when you get on. It’ll help to keep locked into position on your board as you’re sliding down.”

 

Swallowing back a shiver and ignoring the odd tingle in the shell of his ear, feeling Hiccup’s warm breath against his skin, Jack shifted on the board. Hiccup’s foot placed in the middle of the board kept it steady as Jack adjusted into a position he was comfortable with, mumbling quietly to himself as he moved. 

 

He felt Hiccup watching him, standing behind him and facing his back, as he moved. Hiccup was mostly quiet, but he would occasionally comment in case Jack was unbalanced or starting to wobble on his feet again.

 

Jack grew a little frustrated and exhaled roughly when he felt like he wasn’t getting balanced enough, embarrassed because he wanted to join in, but he was so used to the steadiness of skating that depending on a piece of wood and the treacherous narrow slopes left him feeling out of sorts, uneasy and annoyed with himself. He wanted to prove that he would be able to do it on his own, even without Hiccup’s offered help.

 

Although, with the prince’s foot on the board, holding it steady, it didn’t wobble anymore. Once it was still, the muscles in his legs unclenched.

 

Hiccup hummed, watching the way Jack spread his legs out. He squinted, a subtle narrowing of his eyes. “Bend down a little more, it’ll help you balance and turn when you want to as you’re riding down the slope.”

 

Jack would normally bristle at being told what to do, though he would do it with some grudging reluctance when it was his mother and sometimes it led to outright refusal to some overly bossy adults back in Burgess, but though there was some authority to Hiccup’s voice, there was also a patience that had Jack’s nerves relaxing.

 

With a little posturing of his hips, he slowly spread his legs in order to more comfortably bend his knees. The muscles in his thighs, hips and abdomen twitched slightly from being used in a way he was not accustomed, but it wasn’t painful, just new.

 

“Like this?”

 

A satisfied noise was made from behind him, a slight brush of air when Hiccup nodded, and he heard the prince’s smile in his voice. “Yeah, better.”

 

He took his foot off of the board and it did not wobble as Jack stood, making him beam with pride, a swell of warmth growing in his chest.

 

Jack licked his bottom lip, thinking. “What about my arms?”

 

Hiccup hummed as he moved to stand in front of him, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

 

Jack noticed that the light from the moon made the messy strands of his hair more reddened, a darker shade of auburn than it normally was. It was pretty.

 

“You’ll use your arms to help guide you as you go down, at the same time with your legs. Just raise them a bit and you should be fine,” he smiled.

 

Nodding, Jack slowly lifted his arms and watched the prince carefully from beneath his bangs, continuing to raise them until the prince nodded, letting him know it was okay to stop there. His muscles were trembling slightly from holding up his arms and bending his legs for so long, and Jack felt an impatient excitement bubble in his chest. He looked down the slope and swallowed.

 

“What now?”

 

Hiccup crossed his arms and grinned, something akin to pride in the curve of his mouth.

 

“Depends, are you ready?”

 

Jack felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. “I--I think so?” Now that he had an idea of how he ought to be positioned, he scratched the back of his head. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

 

Chuckling, the prince shook his head. “No, not that I can think of besides the super basic warnings of not to ride down any narrow, sharp slopes just yet.” A grin twitched on his lips. “You’re still a beginner.”

 

Jack’s brown eyes narrowed. “Is that supposed to be some kind of challenge?”

 

Hiccup snorted and shook his head, laughing. “No, I’m just telling you to take it easy! I’d rather you not hit your head on a rock while riding down the mountainside when you’re just getting started,” he smiled.

 

Jack raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile growing on his lips as he watched Hiccup retrieve the board still strapped to Toothless’s saddle. The brown wood was worn and cared for despite several years of use; it was polished and smoothed, only a few chipped edges in sight.

 

“And what about you?”

 

Hiccup blinked. “Me?” Slowly, he grinned once more and, after letting the board fall to the ground, stood atop it.

 

His grin widened so much that Jack could almost call it a smirk.

 

“I’ll see you at the bottom.”

 

-

 

Hiccup could play the mature card all he liked when it came to himself and his fellow dragon riders, but after hours of sliding down slopes coated with snow under darkness and moonlight, Jack knew that the prince was just as competitive as the lot of them.

 

He was a bit more subtle and reserved about it, and he appeared to be the minder of the more rowdy members of the bunch, namely for the twins, who teased him and smirked, muttering things that Jack could never quite hear, but made Hiccup’s ears turn red as he hissed at them to shut up. But for all of their teasing, they listened to him, albeit playing up the reluctance. But it was Snotlout who got Hiccup’s competitive and rather argumentative streak going and Jack was left to stare in bemusement when the cousins started bickering once more, beginning with Snotlout accusing Hiccup of trying to show off, leading them into a race.

 

Jack ignored the pointed stare that the shorter dragon rider gave him, a half-sneer curled on his lips, as Snotlout accused Hiccup of showing off. Instead, he chose to watch them race with an amused grin spread on his lips.

 

His own adventures in learning how to ride the slopes were interesting in their own right; sometimes frustrating and a little scary, but Jack was surprised at just how much fun he was having. He started off at a slower pace, watching with a passing envy as the riders slid past him at higher speeds, but in the end, his face reddened and pink from the wind rushing against his skin as he rode down that mountain, Jack found it to be both rewarding and exhilarating.

 

Hiccup was there the entire time, making sure that he was riding safely and maintaining his balance on the board as he slid on the snow. Toothless was there, too, using his paws to slide down as he followed his rider, and Jack could not stop his laughter then, his lips spread wide into a grin at the sight. He’d almost wiped out on a stray rock, much to the prince’s apparent horror, but Jack didn’t mind much.

 

By the time Hiccup started racing him down the mountain, Jack didn’t care how clumsy and inexperienced he was. He didn’t care that he stumbled several times, unbalanced and not bending his legs enough, and at one point, even crashing into the prince and causing them both to wipe out. He’d apologized to Hiccup, but the other male laughed through his wheezes, shaking his head and telling him that it was all right.

 

The more he pushed himself back onto the board and slid down the slopes, the better he got with it, though not without a few mistakes here and there, but even making those fumbles did not deter the joy that thrummed through his veins.

 

He was having too much fun.

 

It had to have been late in the evening or even the hours of the early morning, when Hiccup brought their fun to a sudden stop. The twins made their disappointment audible and loud, and Fishlegs and Astrid shared somewhat despondent expressions but nodded in agreement all the same. Snotlout scuffed his heel into the snow, grumbling, but the rub of his eyes was a tell-tale sign of tiredness.

 

Their dragons crooned softly, exhilaration from that night’s activities winding down into a desire to sleep, and the riders respectively began to prepare their dragons for flight.

 

Hiccup wiped the snow off of his shoulders and began to walk towards Toothless, who was scratching off bits of frost clinging to his ears with his front paw. Jack smiled and stifled a short laugh at the sight, biting his inner cheek; the Night Fury reminded him of house cats in so many ways, sometimes.

 

Patting the snow off of the front of his cloak, Jack started searching his pockets to make sure the compass was still there. Smiling at the touch of cold metal against his fingertips, he pulled his hand out and began to walk towards Toothless and Hiccup, who was snapping the straps of the saddle back onto the dragon’s side.

 

A sudden tap to his shoulder stopped him. Turning, Jack was face to face with a pair of wide grins belonging to the twins.

 

He blinked and felt his shoulders stiffen, guarded. “Um, can I help you?” he asked, keeping his tone safely neutral.

 

Ruffnut waved him off. “Nah, nothing you can help us with, we just wanted to tell you that watching you completely suck at boarding down the mountain was _hilarious_.”

 

Heat pooled into Jack’s cheeks, embarrassed, and his jaw set as Tuffnut snickered. His brow drew together in a glare, ready to be sent at any further comment.

 

“It was my first time doing something like that,” he said coolly. “We don’t exactly have mountains like these back in Burgess.”

 

“We could tell,” Tuffnut drawled with a smirk, the curl of his lips widening when Jack bristled. “Which made it even funnier. Oh, Loki, I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard when you _slammed_ into Hiccup like that.”

 

The twins shared snickers as Jack felt the back of his neck grow hot, his tense muscles twitching with irritation at being mocked so openly; he’d kept his distance from the twins as he had Snotlout. He hadn’t had many interactions with them before now, but he’d seen enough of their antics at training that he supposed he was allowed to be wary. Their havoc-wreaking was sometimes amusing, as was their bickering, but Jack only watched from a safe distance and hadn’t yet been a victim of their outright, blunt teasing until now. He didn’t know what to make them.

 

Now, he realized, that while they could be entertaining, they were also capable of being incredibly annoying.

 

He suddenly understood Hiccup’s irritation with them sometimes.

 

Jack grit his teeth, willing the redness in his pale face to go away as he closed his eyes. “Is there a point to this?” he ground out. “Because if not, I’m just gonna go now.”

 

He felt a pair of familiar eyes on the back of his head, watching him carefully, and knowing who those eyes belonged to made the tense muscles in his neck relax. Jack began to turn, missing how a pair of pale blue looked over his head to see sharp green narrowing in suspicion.

 

“We just wanted to say--” Tuffnut started just as Jack began to walk off, turning on his heel to return to the prince’s side.

 

“Thanks,” Ruffnut finished.

 

Jack paused.

 

Slowly, he turned around. His brows knit together, confused.

 

Ruffnut crossed her arms against her chest, huffing as a scowl formed on her lips at the brown-haired male’s blatant confusion written all over his face. 

 

“Look,” she started roughly, her dark blonde brows knit in what might have been an angry furrow if it weren’t for the softer flicker of emotion in her iron blue eyes.

 

Jack was startled by the vulnerability of it.

 

“We’ve barely seen Hiccup around at all for the past month, which is annoying enough because Astrid is fucking _irritating_ sometimes during training (gods, she can be so damn **bossy** ), and while Prince Lovestruck and Stupid is annoying all on his own with his uppityness--”

 

“It’s not the same without him there nagging at us to behave or whatever,” Tuffnut said with a snort and a shrug.

 

Jack stared.

 

“You’re..” Jack paused, pursing his lips as he blinked, attempting to process what he’d just been told. The parts slowly began to click into place as a puzzle would, forming the perfect image. He tried not to smile too widely, biting gently into his lower lip, rolling the flesh between his teeth as he kept the corners of his mouth from arching higher upward.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

The twins stared at him in unison, sizing him up for a whole beat, and then, before turning on their heels to return to their dragon, Tuffnut flashed him a toothy smirk that seemed almost kind as he rapped Jack’s shoulder with his knuckles.

 

Jack’s shoulders stiffened when Ruffnut suddenly pointed at him, a glare on her face. “And don’t you _dare_ repeat what you just heard, especially not to Prince Stringbean over there, got it?”

 

He smothered a grin. “Crystal.”

 

Her eyes narrowed at him, studying his expression for any lies. Finding none, she shrugged, waved him off, and returned to Barf.

 

Jack watched them walk back to their dragon and take off into the darkness, back to the village, rubbing his shoulder. He heard the crunch of boots against snow and closed his eyes.

 

“Everything all right?” Hiccup asked. His voice was hushed and quiet in the still night, but gentle and warm.

 

With a hum, Jack smiled. He nodded, and lowered his arm, letting it fall to his side as he turned. His smile widened into a grin and he laughed at the concerned pursing of Hiccup’s lips.

 

“Yeah, everything is fine,” Jack smiled. “More than fine.”

 

The tight lines of Hiccup’s face relaxed and his eyes widened, a subtle opening in the open slits of the leather mask. He stared, his Night Fury rumbling softly from behind him, having crept to sit beside his rider. A smile spread.

 

“I’m glad.”

 

Jack’s smile widened.

 

He looked up at the sky and sucked in a deep breath. Heavy eyelids fluttered despite the burst of wakeful cold he’d breathed in.

 

“I’m starting to get sleepy.”

 

Hiccup’s laugh was warm.

 

“Then we should get going, huh?”

 

\---

 

_Emma,_

 

_Hiccup is... Well, he’s really nothing like I expected. Remember all those stories Mom used to tell us when we were kids? About princes, castles, and all those things? He’s nothing like the princes in those stories and books. He’s awkward. When we actually met for the first time, he just told me ‘Hi.’ ‘Hi,’ as if he were a distant cousin that I hadn’t seen in years and hadn’t wanted to be there in the first place, but his parents forced him to. Oh, Mani, I was so_ **_mad_ ** _! Don’t tell Mom this, but I kind of wanted to punch him right in the face when we first met that night. I know, I know, Mom would rip my ear off if she knew, so that’s why I’m telling you not to tell her._

_Promise me you won’t tell her, okay._

_The next time I’m home, I’ll do your chores for you in exchange. All of them. For the entire visit._

_But, as I was saying-- he’s awkward. He seemed to have trouble just talking to me for a while, and he doesn’t talk much about what he does during the day (he’s never around during the day, but he probably has princely stuff to do, he always seems so busy), but we have dinner with each other every night. And he’s so evasive about almost everything that he does during the day that sometimes I could strangle him._

_.._

_Emma, do you remember when Mom found me on the doorstep that night, dripping wet? I haven’t told you about that night before because I’d scared you so badly that I didn’t want to make you think about it, but I almost died that night. I nearly drowned in the lake. The one we skate on during the winter. The ice wasn’t as thick as I thought it was and it cracked beneath me while I was fooling around. Mom still gives me faces for going out that late, and alone at that._

_Hiccup saved me that night. He brought me home. I never knew. I had to drag it out of him, but... Oh, gods, this will sound so cheesy and don’t you_ **_dare_ ** _make fun of me for it but, I recognized his voice the first time he ever spoke to me, and that was why. I remembered that he was the one who saved me._

_I could’ve died and he had no obligation to help me. He still saved me, and brought me home._

_I wish he’d told me who he was then. I wish he’d stayed that night, with us. We could’ve, I dunno, made him dinner or something as a thank you. You know Mom would’ve made him anything he liked as a thank you. It would’ve been nice to have spoken to and thanked him back then._

_He’s a good person, I think. The dragons love him. The king and queen adore him. Some of the other riders may not act like it but they like him, too. I’ve never seen Toothless without Hiccup. Yeah, he’s a good person._

_He’s nice. I think you’d like him._

 

_..._

 

_I don’t think I mind having to spend the rest of my life with him._

 

_Love,_

 

_Jack._

 

\---

 

His fork fell with a clatter on his plate as he stared at the sheepish looking prince for a long held beat, blinked rapidly, and then leaned forward. He pressed his elbows to the table.

 

“What do you mean that you’ve never gone ice-skating?”

 

Ears turning pink, Hiccup ignored the amused chuffs of his dragon and swirled his water around in his cup. He looked down at the little splashes it made against the half-empty sides.

 

“Exactly as I said it,” Hiccup said in a mumble, unable to completely look at Jack’s judging stare of disbelief. “It just, y’know, never came up.”

 

“Not even when you were a kid?”

 

“I think we were a bit more busy trying to kill dragons and fish for food in frozen lakes than trying to skate along them,” the prince said dryly, green eyes half-lidded as he finally looked at him. “You don’t really get a chance to nearly die by falling into a frozen pond when you’re trying not to die by being immolated by a flying beast.”

 

A glowing green eye slit open and Toothless growled out a huff from his resting spot against the long end of the table, offended. The prosthetic end of the Night Fury’s tail slapped against Hiccup’s shin, making the prince jolt.

 

“I was being facetious, Toothless,” Hiccup groaned, tapping the dragon’s tail away from his leg with his toes. “Exaggerating, that’s what I do.”

 

With a loud, purposeful growling yawn that spoke of humanoid eye rolls and faint annoyance, the dragon raised a wing to place it over his face. Toothless slept on with loud, heavy snores that weren’t quite genuine.

 

Hiccup snorted, rolled his eyes and muttered, ‘big baby,’ under his breath.

 

Toothless snorted audibly in retort.

 

“Well, being nearly burned alive by dragons aside, you must’ve been living under a rock for years because _how could you have never gone ice-skating?_ ”

 

Hiccup shifted in his seat at the incredulous expression on Jack’s face. “Even if we **did** go ice-skating around here, I wouldn’t know how to.”

 

The muscles in Jack’s face relaxed as he watched the prince shrug and stare out the window, the light of the candles dancing along the dark brown leather of his mask, making his brown eyes flicker with yellow-gold and more vibrant than usual.

 

Hiccup blinked and furrowed his brow in confusion when he heard Jack stand up, the legs of his chair scraping against the wooden floor.

 

The brown-haired male crossed his arms across his chest and grinned, a certain glint entering Jack’s brown eyes that Hiccup only saw rarely. It was an excited, eager glint, more vibrant that his usual youthful exuberance. The first time he saw it directed towards him was when Jack asked him to go flying all those weeks ago.

 

“I guess we’ll just have to fix that then, won’t we?” Jack grinned. He walked away from his chair and put on his cloak. “C’mon, we should probably get you a pair of skates before anything else.”

 

Jack soon discovered that it would take a couple more nights before they would get to go skating, much to his disappointment. His excitement waned slowly as Hiccup moved about the workshop, squinting his eyes and glancing around to make sure that Gobber had gone home before moving in completely with a sigh of relief. But his disappointment washed away quickly when Hiccup began to work. A small pile of sketches was placed on the worktable and lead stuck to his fingertips; Hiccup rarely saw ice-skates, and so he’d asked someone who had a much better idea of what they were supposed to look like than he. The person Hiccup asked for a visual demonstration wound up being Jack, of course, who took a charcoal pencil in hesitant fingers and began to draw.

 

Jack’s first few sketches were copies that he quickly threw away, his face warm and flushed with embarrassment. He wasn’t much of an artist and **knew** that. But Hiccup didn’t poke fun at him for it, so Jack didn’t mind as much as he would’ve otherwise.

 

Hiccup watched the motion of Jack’s fingers and strokes carefully, drinking in the shape of the sketches of the skates. Once Jack was done, it was Hiccup’s turn and after that, he held up the sheet of paper to Jack to make sure that he’d drawn it correctly.

 

The first few sketches by the prince looked more like shoes with axe blades stuck to the bottom; Jack couldn’t stop himself from bursting into laughter.

 

At Hiccup’s confused expression, so wide-eyed and childish in its bewilderment, Jack swallowed down his snickers and gently corrected Hiccup on what skates ought to look like; that the blades were not meant to kill anyone, they just had to be thin enough to glide on the ice, but not so big that they could not move along the ice with ease. Just enough to hold a person’s weight up. Jack smiled as Hiccup’s green eyes lit up in fascination and he noticed that his fingers were twitching, rubbing against each other, as if trying to contain an itch.

 

Hiccup picked up the drawings and stroked his chin as he looked them over another time. He looked up at Jack and a smile spread. “Feel like helping me out with making these? You need a pair, too, don’t you?”

 

If there were one word to describe Hiccup in a working environment, it would be “thorough.”

 

Jack hadn’t gotten a chance to see Hiccup work in the forge since his arrival (and according to Gobber’s grumbles and mutters that weren’t so much under his breath as spits of words, Hiccup hadn’t been working there at all for the duration of Jack’s stay), and he wasn’t sure what to expect from the prince. But given his enthusiasm for dragons as a whole, perhaps he should’ve expected to find Hiccup throwing himself into this new project they’d given themselves.

 

What Hiccup made first were the metal blades. As Jack had no idea how to work the forge, he sat back with Toothless, absently stroking the dragon’s neck, as Hiccup went to work. At his rider’s request, the dragon lit the fire for the hearth and Jack watched in fascination as the prince stoked the fire, causing it to grow bigger and fill the shop with a warm, orange light.

 

There was a bit of struggle in Hiccup’s arms as he pushed down on the stow of the fire and Jack could hear the prince sucking in deep breaths as he did so. Once the fire was roaring and alive, the prince exhaled and rolled up his sleeves.

 

Jack felt his brows raise as he saw the lean muscles in Hiccup’s arms twitch to life as the prince bent his arm, set the piece of metal in the fire and beat at it. Jack blamed the sudden heat growing on his face and the back of his neck on the fire burning in the hearth and focused on the hiss of the melting iron to distract himself from the sudden rushing sound of blood in his ears.

 

Swallowing, Jack shifted and focused his attention on Hiccup’s determined pounding of the metal, shaping it to what they needed, crossing his legs and ignoring the strange little spark of heat settling in his stomach.

 

A single green eye slit open to glance up at Jack. Toothless took a single sniff and gave a quiet chuff before closing his eyes. The corners of his mouth curled upward in a draconic smile.

 

\---

 

“You know,” Jack said, his tone airily flippant as he rubbed at the leather, making it shine in the flicker of the fire’s light, “For someone who’s never gone ice-skating before, you sure seem to know what you’re doing when it comes to making shoes for it.”

 

His lips twitched into a grin as Hiccup snorted, lowering the boot after giving it a final rub to clean it off. “Would you believe me if I said that I was just kind of winging it and don’t entirely know what I’m doing just yet?”

 

Jack hummed, lowering the cloth to stroke his chin, forgetting about the faint soot marks staining the cloth and his fingers. He gave it a moment’s pause for thought, and then huffed a laugh. “Given what I know of you so far, I have no trouble believing that at all. Should I really trust you to make sure that you won’t make me fall on the ice and give me a concussion with these shoes?”

 

Hiccup rolled his eyes and bumped his elbow against Jack’s forearm, a gentle push, making the other male laugh.

 

“Don’t worry,” Hiccup drawled, a smile twitching on his lips. “I’ll make sure that you don’t fall on your butt and hurt yourself in these. I’d rather not have a repeat of that pond incident.”

 

Jack’s cheeks colored and with a grumble, he half-heartedly knocked his shoulder against Hiccup’s, making the prince chortle and raise his eyebrows beneath his mask. The scowl on Jack’s lips, a faux, half-hearted pull of his mouth, relaxed and faded as he laughed softly through his nose.

 

Hiccup smiled and the crackle of the fire in the still-lit hearth filtered through the silence.

 

His eyelids feeling heavy from looking into a fire for longer than what he was used to, and his wrist becoming sore from scrubbing and rubbing the leather, Jack held back a yawn and lowered the shoe. He watched as Hiccup raised the shoe he’d been working on, squinting and fiddling with the metal to make sure it wasn’t loose or wouldn’t come undone if it were to sit on a harder surface. Cupping his chin in his palm, Jack observed with a little grin as Hiccup bit his lip in thought.

 

He did that a lot, Jack had noticed.

 

Once apparently satisfied with his progress so far, Hiccup turned to ask Jack how his shoe was coming along, his mouth half open, when it closed abruptly.

 

Blinking, Jack lifted his chin off of his palm and cocked his head.

 

Hiccup was just **staring** , eyes lowering to... something on his face.

 

Jack’s brows furrowed and the skin under his collar started feeling warm underneath Hiccup’s stare.

 

“Hiccup?”

 

His shoulders jolted and froze when he felt a lukewarm fabric on his chin. The rubs were gentle, not exactly smooth, but purposeful. He didn’t even see when Hiccup picked up the cleaner rag. The fingers didn’t linger long on his face, and the cloth was soon lowered back to the table.

 

Jack stared at Hiccup. Unless it was the light of the fire beaming through the soft, thin shells of his ears, the tips of the prince’s were a bright pink.

 

“Soot,” the prince said, quiet.

 

“Huh?” Jack replied intelligibly.

 

The corner of Hiccup’s mouth twitched. He tapped his own chin.

 

“There was soot on your chin.”

 

Jack stared, then blinked, slow. “Oh.”

 

Hiccup’s lips arched, but he said nothing.

 

“Well.” Jack laced his hands together on the tabletop, tapping against the wood. Gods damn this fire, his cheeks felt much too hot for it to be normal. “Thank you,” he murmured.

 

“You’re welcome,” the prince half-whispered.

 

The hearth continued to burn and the skates were left on top of the table, nearly finished and polished for use. Neither of the young men spoke and they kept their eyes low, staring down at their hands.

 

Glowing green eyes glanced between them and twitched with an almost humanlike roll before closing. Toothless placed his front claws on his snout, covering his eyes, and he tried to continue with his light nap, unbothered by the ridiculous humans sitting before him. He made himself comfortable by the hearth, enjoying its warmth.

 

As the silence stretched on, a long-restrained question niggled at the back of Jack’s mind, one that’d haunted him ever since that night at the pond, one he’d tried very hard to ignore upon his arrival and meeting with the Berkian prince. A question whose flames were fanned when Hiccup revealed himself to be the one that saved him that night. He’d not yet found a proper time to ask and he’d feared broaching the subject because of the deep, unsaid meaning the prince clearly had for that night.

 

It was an important night to Jack, too. He’d wanted to ask, but he was afraid. He was afraid of what could come after.

 

Talking to Hiccup about his being at the pond the night Jack almost drowned meant that Jack possibly had to confront the reality of Hiccup’s feelings towards him.

 

He was comfortable with this tenuous friendship they’d formed since his coming. It was fragile, but it was there and Jack _liked_ it. He didn’t want it to go away. He enjoyed his time spent with Hiccup and Toothless, and their nights having dinner and going out flying.

 

He’d even enjoyed simply sitting and watching Hiccup work.

 

It was a realization that left Jack unsteady on his feet.

 

Hiccup’s feelings for him was a subject he hadn’t wanted to confront (not yet, if ever, an inevitability that frightened him to acknowledge), but..

 

Licking his bottom lip, Jack stared at the prince from beneath his lashes. “Hiccup... why were you there that night?”

 

The movement was small. Subtle, almost unnoticeable. But Jack saw it; a slight twitch of Hiccup’s shoulders, the muscles corded within tightening with a sudden tension, as if the prince was sucking in a sharp breath.

 

Black ear-fins twitched and tilted upwards, the large body stirring at the change in atmosphere around him. His eyelids spasmed, slit green eyes ready to open.

 

From what little Jack could see, the muscles in Hiccup’s face didn’t change much. But his green eyes were clouded with an emotion Jack couldn’t read, Hiccup’s mind working too fast for him to catch up.

 

“The night at the pond?” Hiccup asked, his voice but a whisper.

 

Jack paused at the tone, hesitant, quiet and fragile, not something he would’ve associated with the prince now. He almost sounded _scared_ \-- No, not quite scared, but, something close.

 

Hiccup’s eyes lowered and with an exhale, his head dipped down. Auburn bangs brushed against the mask as he rubbed his neck. His mouth twitched upward in a sardonic half-grin.

 

“I’m sure you’ve heard Dad complaining about how I’m running off all the time, right?”

 

Brows knitting, Jack pursed his lips and nodded.

 

He didn’t see how that was relevant, but he did recall Stoick saying something along those lines. Instead of questioning its importance, he let Hiccup continue.

 

“Well, there’s a reason for that,” Hiccup grinned. “I often _do_ leave Berk for stretches of time. Just me and Toothless, mostly. The other guys pretty much do their own thing, so I do mine. I’m not usually gone too long. A week and a half at most, very rarely longer.”

 

Jack’s head tilted, curiosity piqued and his fascination growing. “Why?”

 

Hiccup’s smile faltered some, just a slight fumble. “Ah, um, hmm.. Dad’s.. never explained to me why much, but we’re generally advised not to leave the mountains around Berk. It has something to do with our history and old war enemies. He doesn’t like to talk about it much, I guess.” Hiccup shrugged.

 

Jack thought he saw something solemn in Hiccup’s next smile. A familiar spark of irritation grew in his chest, one that came about when he knew that Hiccup wasn’t telling him something.

 

“He says he’ll tell me Berk’s entire history when I’m chief.”

 

Jack’s ears twitched at the sound of something like mockery at the end of Hiccup’s sentence, though it wasn’t so much a humorous disbelief as.. self-deprecating. He didn’t know what to make of that. He chose to focus on one part of Hiccup’s statement.

 

Confused, his brows furrowed and he leaned in closer to the prince. “Then, if your dad didn’t want you going away from here and wandering off..” he started, expression turning incredulous. “Why in the name of the gods were you in _Burgess_?”

 

Hiccup’s mouth twitched into something more genuine, humor glinting in his green eyes. “Dad advises us not to, but with a little bit of swaying, a touch of bribery and a _lot_ of whining, he let me start traveling around. So long as I got home within a week or so, give or take.” He ran his fingers through his hair, the smile playing on his mouth as he recalled memories he couldn’t quite convey to Jack. “I didn’t mean to travel all the way south like that, I guess I just got.. carried away.”

 

Jack gazed at the prince, noting the flush of his ears and his averted stare. He leaned to get a better look; his green eyes were slightly clouded. Jack frowned. It was a look he was coming to know well.

 

Hiccup always made that same face when he had to keep something from Jack, some kind of information that he couldn’t tell him yet. It was endlessly aggravating and made the skin on his arms prickle with irritation.

 

With a steady inhale, he strived to ignore his irritation and allow Hiccup to continue. Waving his hand and giving the other male a brief smile, he encouraged him to finish his story.

 

“So..” Jack said slowly, raising an eyebrow at the prince. “You wound up in Burgess on accident?”

 

Hiccup’s grin was sheepish. “Something like that, yeah.”

 

“..Huh.” Jack’s expression was thoughtful, and then a small laugh tickled out of his throat. “Well, I’m sure you could’ve picked a more interesting place than Burgess to accidentally wander your way into.”

 

Hiccup chuckled, a quiet huff through his nose and a twitching of his lips. “Hmm, maybe. I probably could’ve wound up anywhere. But, I’m glad that I did wind up crashing into Burgess.”

 

“Oh? Are you?” Jack smiled.

 

Green eyes looked at him and flickered with heady warmth that had Jack’s mouth stilling, the beating of his pulse stuttering as Hiccup’s smile seemed to soften. The corners of his eyes crinkled in the spaces the mask allowed his face to be shown, heightening the deep, forest color of his irises.

 

“Yeah, ‘cause...” Hiccup looked down, rubbing at his neck as his ears turned pink. His voice lowered into a reluctant murmur. “Well, it led me to you, didn’t it?”

 

Jack’s breath caught and his expression froze. He stared at the other male, his brown eyes slightly widened and mouth parted.

 

_His eyes are so bright this up-close_ , he thought dumbly.

 

Slowly, Hiccup blinked, the cloud of warmth in his green eyes turning to clarity and realization. He blinked several times, and his eyes widened.

 

Jack saw his ears turn a bright shade of red and there was something skittish in the prince’s body language as he observed Jack’s face. Hiccup turned away and picked up the shoe again, busying himself with wiping off the soot (long gone).

 

“Sorry,” he said quickly, not looking at Jack. “Forget I said anything. It’s nothing.”

 

He seemed to shrink in on himself, as if trying to hide, and Jack didn’t know what to do or say, not when his heart was suddenly racing and leaping into his throat.

 

“No, no,” he interjected, looking down at the table and fiddling with his fingers. “It’s--It’s okay.”

 

He didn’t look up at Hiccup, nor did Hiccup look at him.

 

Toothless stared between the two humans, his ear-fins lying close to his head as he smelled the awkwardness settle between them. Huffing through his nose, Toothless snorted and placed his claws atop his eyes. His tail reached out to give a gentle tap to the back of Hiccup’s leg, rubbing against his calf, and the Night Fury warbled quietly when he felt the twitching of the muscles relax against his soothing touch.

 

The dragon knew his human well.

 

Jack swallowed hard and exhaled, urging himself to relax and calm the racing of his pulse. He rubbed at his chest, his fingers trailing against his collarbone as he tried to think of something to say, or whether to let the subject lie and speak of it never again.

 

The echoes of Pippa’s question from days ago, a question he’d been hoping to forget with time, came to him, whispering in his ear.

 

_“When are you and Prince Håkon getting married?”_

 

_When, indeed,_ Jack thought faintly.

 

He realized; not once since they had met properly, had Hiccup ever spoken of their impending marriage, let alone their engagement. If anything the prince seemed to purposefully avoid talking about it, just as he tried to refrain from touching him too much.

 

Jack initially took his reluctance to touch him as a sign that the prince was toying with him, not taking this engagement seriously whatsoever. It was a first impression quickly dismissed when they actually took the time to talk. Hiccup’s touches were rare, but they were meaningful when the prince initiated them.

 

Jack knew that they had to address it at some point.

 

The letter and proposal. The nights and dinners they spent together.

 

The reason why he was in Berk in the first place.

 

The way Hiccup _looked_ at him. 

 

It’d seemed such a faraway subject, one he hadn’t needed to think about, but now.. he supposed that the time had come.

 

Closing his eyes, he sucked in a breath. Brown eyes fluttered open and, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to protect himself from the tension that’d landed between them, he looked to Hiccup. The prince scrubbed away at the leather, his lips moving but not speaking, as if he were muttering to himself.

 

He inhaled.

 

“Hiccup...” he began, but a mere whisper.

 

The prince didn’t look at him, but his mumbling lips closed and his fingers stopped their scrubbing. They were slightly reddened.

 

Green eyes glanced at him.

 

Jack swallowed. He could hear his heart racing in his ears, a muffled rushing noise that settled in the hollow of his throat. His chest was tight.

 

“Why haven’t you talked about us getting married at all?”

 

The silence was long and the crackle of the fire drowned out the wind brushing against the window. The burning, bright red logs split and fell apart in the hearth. The coal burned and Hiccup had not said a word. Jack was beginning to wish he’d not said anything at all and wanted to go back to the comfortable silence they shared.

 

But he did not regret asking.

 

This was his future sitting next to him. He deserved to know when it would begin and what it would be like.

 

Jack almost jumped when Hiccup suddenly sighed, dropping his masked face into his hands. A soft laugh that carried no mirth was muffled in his palms. His fingers dragged against the surface of his mask.

 

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Hiccup said. “I-- I know that all of...” Hiccup paused and gestured vaguely, his hands flapping. “ _This_ , is kind of hard to digest, and getting here in the first place and learning to adjust had to have been enough of a shock.”

 

He licked his bottom lip, struggling to string words together before he said them out loud. The corners of his mouth twitched upward and the lines around his eyes tightened with a sad bemusement.

 

“You weren’t exactly thrilled to meet me at first, either. I wanted you to feel comfortable enough being here before... well, bringing it up.”

 

Jack, quiet as he listened to the prince speak, noticed that he kept his own feelings far away from the subject; he was careful not to bring himself into the equation and focused on Jack and _his_ feelings.

 

He frowned.

 

Biting his inner cheek, he laced his fingers together and tapped them against the table. He exhaled. “What about _you_?”

 

A beat.

 

“What about me?”

 

A scowl twitched on his mouth, hardening the muscles in his jaw. “The reason I’m even here is because of **you,** ” he said, snappish. “Don’t try to exclude yourself from this.”

 

Hiccup didn’t flinch, but his face twitched with something that could’ve been hurt or shame. Guilt coiled in Jack’s gut, but he kept himself firm and strong as he waited for a response. Sucking in a breath and slowly exhaling, Jack looked down at the surface of the table and saw Hiccup’s hand, curled against the wood, his fingers tapping incessantly. He was anxious.

 

The tapping paused when Jack reached out a hand to brush his fingers against Hiccup’s.

 

“Please,” he said softly. “I won’t bother you anymore with my stupid questions and I’ll leave it alone--” _for now,_ “But.. please just answer me this?”

 

He raised his eyebrows and hoped, his beating heart nearly leaping up into the hollow of his throat.

 

He felt Hiccup’s fingers twitch beneath his and saw an odd look form on Hiccup’s masked face; more than ever did he wish he could just rip it off. Instead, he waited, and watched as Hiccup bit his lower lip, ducked his head, and sighed. His fingers curled again and Jack felt a pad brush against his knuckle. It was warm, a little rough to the touch, but it made the tense muscles in Jack’s hand go lax.

 

“...I wanted to still give you a choice,” Hiccup said softly.

 

Jack had to strain to hear it, it was such a low whisper, and he was taken aback by the sheer, barely restrained emotion in the prince’s voice, turning it a little hoarse and rough.

 

He wanted to ask, _what do you mean by that?_ The wrenched, pained glint of the prince’s green eyes had him silenced.

 

Hiccup’s eyes closed and he breathed sharply through his nose, trying to calm the racing of his heart into a pace that let him breathe, that didn’t make him feel choked or clogged in the throat.

 

“You didn’t say yes because you love me, a prince you hadn’t even met before or knew existed,” he continued, his tone neutral and dulled, as if all the emotion in him had been sucked out.

 

Jack nearly got whiplash from the sheer, abrupt change in the prince’s tone and his mouth parted in a small gape.

 

“You said yes because you wanted to take care of your family. They mean everything to you, anyone could see that.” The corners of his eyes crinkled and Hiccup smiled softly, a little laugh escaping in a single exhale. “You wanted to make sure that they’d be taken care of no matter what happened to you, you never would’ve said yes to my proposal if you were looking out for yourself and didn’t care what happened to your family. For all we know, you would’ve been perfectly fine without me in the picture. It--”

 

The prince stopped, pausing for breath and collecting the words that were flying about his mind in a wind-blown frenzy, and Jack found himself leaning in, attentive to every single word.

 

Hiccup was lost in thought, and then his smile spread. Warm, soft and tender.

 

“..Your love and dedication to your family was one of the things that first drew me to you.”

 

Speechless, his face gradually gaining warmth and his pulse rushing loud in his ears, Jack could only watch as Hiccup’s head lowered with another soft laugh-- one with little mirth in it --and he rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“I knew that no matter who you’d.. eventually marry, you’d want to make sure that your family would be taken care of.” The prince pursed his lips and breathed out through his nose. “I didn’t say that I’d make sure they’d live comfortably to get you to accept. I made that promise because I _wanted_ to. Your family... they’re good people. They love you.”

 

He smiled, and there was a warmth that went deeper than that of a silent, observing prince that’d only stumbled upon Jack and his family those few times he’d wound up flying into Burgess. He spoke of his family as if he truly **knew** them.

 

There was a twitching in the back of his mind, something that whispered of familiarity to Jack, but as he looked at the prince’s face and watched the curl of his mouth, Jack couldn’t figure out why or what it was. And for now, he chose to let it slide.

 

He felt his eyes mist over at the talk of his family and he gave a hard swallow, thinking of the letter he’d sent out to Emma only two days before. He hoped that Sharpshot made it to Burgess safely. During their exchanges, she only spent about four days, at most, between Burgess and Berk.

 

He couldn’t wait for his letter.

 

“Yeah, I know,” he croaked. Something else niggled in the back of his mind and his brow furrowed. “The dress you gave my sister, my boots, the grain.... were those from you?”

 

Hiccup’s eyes closed. He didn’t answer, but he folded his hands on top of each other and smiled. He nodded.

 

Jack stared at Hiccup in amazement, and not for the first time since meeting the prince, he was left speechless.

 

_Just how long have you been doing this for us?_

 

“If.. If possible, I would like your family to be a part of mine and my life in the future. If you’d let me,” Hiccup said, so quietly that Jack could barely hear him over the crackle of the fire.

 

Rarely had he ever heard Hiccup sound so vulnerable and exposed in his emotions.

 

_Of course you’d be a part of our family,_ he thought. _That’s what getting married is all about, isn’t it? The merging of different families to become a new one? If not, then what’s the purpose of getting married in the first place?_

 

_Emma would love you._

 

_I can’t see why Mother wouldn’t like you either. You could show her why dragons aren’t to be feared, you could teach her, just like you taught to all of Berk.. just as the auburn dragon taught_ **_me._ **

 

Everything that Hiccup was saying to him made a warmth grow and swell deep within his clavicle, but it still didn’t quite explain why he’d been so reluctant to talk about their engagement and eventual marriage.

 

_Why are you so_ **_scared?_ **

 

“Hiccup?” Jack asked quietly, staring at the prince from underneath his bangs. The skates were long forgotten, left to warm themselves in the light of the fire.

 

Hiccup, despite the call of his name, didn’t appear to hear Jack at all. By the ghostly look in his eyes, he seemed lost. He was smiling again, but there was none of the boyish mirth and crooked-mouthed eagerness that he’d come to so associate with Hiccup.

 

Jack wanted to pull him out of whatever state he was in. His fingers brushed against the back of the prince’s hand in a smooth curve.

 

“What makes you think that I wouldn’t let you be a part of my family?” Jack asked in a murmur.

 

Hiccup’s silence felt as long as the changing light at the end of a dying day.

 

The prince exhaled and dragged his fingers down his face. He looked tired, the skin around his eyes dark and haggard.

 

“...Because you still have the choice to say no.”

 

Jack stared and blinked rapidly.

 

“What?” he rasped out, brows furrowed in pure confusion.

 

Hiccup stared down at his hands. He seemed to have trouble looking the other male in the eye and he appeared to shrink in even more, trying to make himself smaller. He seemed like a small child afraid of being rejected by his friends in the training ring, smiling in the face of their jeers and scoffs, trying to play the hurt off with humor. But there was no humor now.

 

“You said yes to my initial proposal, but you have the choice to say no,” Hiccup whispered. “You still have that choice. You always have. If you wanted to, you could leave right now. And I wouldn’t stop you. Nobody would.”

 

Jack’s ears were ringing and it was hard to swallow.

 

There was not a trace of bitterness in Hiccup’s voice. If he felt any, he hid it well. Jack heard only a soft-spoken sadness.

 

“ ** _Why?_** ” Jack croaked, feeling strangely light-headed. His fingers were shaking at the tips. Hiccup still wasn’t looking at him.

 

The prince was staring down at his fingers and his shaggy, wind-curled locks of auburn hair were hiding what little of his eyes Jack could see.

 

He saw the corner of Hiccup’s mouth strain upward and the back of Jack’s eyes stung, warm, salty water collecting in the corners.

 

“I’m not going to force someone who doesn’t love me to marry me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this chapter took a long time to get made. so sorry about that, guys! i promise this fic isn't dead, it will get finished, along with everything else! life's just been getting in the way lately, especially due to the failing health of one of my grandparents.
> 
> welp, anyway, hope you all enjoy the chapter and many, many thanks to my wonderful beta, Adrian, as always. cheers ♥


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talks are had, contemplations are made, and a quiet night in the snow is shared.

Jack stared at the canopy of his bed, the sleepiness pulling at his eyelids but unwilling to close them. Not even the sound of the crackling fire could lull him to sleep as it always did. He turned, the pillow pressing against his cheek, as he looked out through the glass of the window. The moon was but a mere sliver. It would be a new moon in the next few nights.

 

He tried to sleep. He did. He settled down in his bed and positioned himself most comfortably on the mattress, the blankets drawn all around him. The fire was still going, low and warm, and the moon could still be seen from his bedside.

 

But he could not get Hiccup’s face and his quiet, raspy voice out of his head.

 

Groaning, Jack clenched his eyes shut and pulled the blankets over his face.

 

There’d been such a deathly awkward silence and Jack was left mute to respond. There was nothing he could say. Perhaps Hiccup expected or hoped for some kind of response, but he received none. If he was disappointed, the prince didn’t let it show.

 

Silent minutes passed before the prince sighed and murmured, “It’s late. We should go to bed now.” He’d smiled, a false strain on his mouth that made Jack’s chest clench with some unknown emotion, a tight pull that made his breath hitch. “I can ask Gobber to work on these a bit more tomorrow. I’m sure he’d like having something to do other than working on teeth and saddles all day.”

 

The abrupt change in topic and tone had not been lost on Jack. He said nothing in response to it. He could only nod mutely and shakily raise himself to his feet, knees trembling a bit not from disuse, but the weight of Hiccup’s words from before. Words the prince was now acting as if he’d never said in the first place.

 

Hiccup said he was going to stay in the workshop for a bit longer, not terribly long, but he wanted to clean up so that Gobber wouldn’t get angry and annoyed at Jack for the mess the next day. Jack wanted to protest, but the smile on Hiccup’s face, kind as it was, seemed so artificial that any protest fell flat on his tongue. 

 

It was late. It was not the time to confront the prince.

 

Not when his own thoughts were at war with themselves.

 

Biting his bottom lip, Jack nodded his acceptance and walked to the door. He stopped at the doorway and, feeling uncharacteristically meek, mumbled a goodnight.

 

Lifting his head from brushing the dust and lint off of the worktable, Hiccup paused to give Jack a small smile. “Goodnight, Jack,” he said in return.

 

Jack left the forge with a tight chest and feeling faintly light-headed.

 

He did not hear the soft whine of the Night Fury as the dragon tucked his large snout underneath the prince’s chin, rumbling a quiet purr deep in his chest in hopes of comforting his human and easing the emotional turmoil within that he could smell.

 

Jack did not hear Hiccup follow after him to the manor.

 

He hoped Hiccup didn’t fall asleep in the forge.

 

Jack stared with bleary, burning-tired eyes into the shadows underneath his comforters. He could smell the ink from the unfinished letter to his mother sitting on his desk. He’d already finished Emma’s.

 

How strange to think that he’d come to see this room and all the furniture in it as _his_ already.

 

How easy it’d become to fall into his blankets after a long night of flying, talking with Hiccup or reading with the prince, being shown around the village and introduced to new dragons. Tired but sated, he’d collapse into bed and smile into his pillow, dreaming dreams he would no longer remember come morning. Sleep would not come easily to him tonight.

 

“ ** _You didn’t say yes because you love me-_** ”

 

Brown eyes clenched shut and with a soft groan, Jack took his pillow and smothered his face in its softness, gripping the fabric between his fingers so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Hiccup’s voice had been so flat and empty, nothing like the vivacious life that’d been there before, a flicker of light in his green eyes that he’d come to find endearing in their excitement and sincerity gone. Hiccup had been so certain in his flat-toned words, and while he showed no bitterness, there was anguish.

 

Jack could hear it.

 

Hiccup was anguished because he truly believed that Jack didn’t love him.

 

He _really---_

 

Breath catching in his throat, Jack pursed his lips and burrowed his face into his pillow.

 

Jack hadn’t wanted to think about it. Hiccup’s feelings for him.

 

He tried to reason with himself that it was because the prince made no grand show of it after they’d formally, properly met that it’d been easy to forget about them. They’d been inconsequential in the light of their growing friendship and Jack paid little mind to the feelings that Hiccup supposedly bore for him in the letter he proposed with. The action of the letter did not echo in Hiccup’s actions in person. Jack convinced himself, however unconsciously, of this.

 

But he knew that was a lie.

 

They’d always been there. In every smile the prince gave him, the space Jack needed freely given to him, every gentle touch of his hand when he pulled Jack onto Toothless’s saddle. In every single hesitant gesture, they’d been there. Jack just hadn’t been willing to see the reality of Hiccup’s feelings for him.

 

He’d been too scared to.

 

Sucking in a deep breath, Jack threw up his legs and turned onto his side, glaring into the darkness with a huff.

 

Part of him wanted to be angry at Hiccup. A small part of him **was** ; why would he propose to him only to back out and give Jack an option to leave whenever he wanted? What was the reasoning behind that? Was he so weak-willed that he’d be willing to give up on his own proclaimed feelings so quickly?

 

His fingers curled into the sheets and blankets, and the frown on his face deepened into a confused scowl. His eyes throbbed slightly with exhaustion but he still could not sleep.

 

As the dull throb of the desire to sleep pounded at the back of his skull, his eyelids growing heavier by the second, Jack began to understand that even though the prince had never said the words outright, that.. **love** , those deep feelings of emotion and affection had _always_ been there.

 

The light of the fire burned behind his eyes and they finally closed, leading him into an uneasy sleep.

 

Maybe that’s why Hiccup gave him that choice in the first place.

 

\---

 

Toothless whined low in his throat, his ear-fins pressing against his skull when Hiccup suddenly ripped the mask off his face and with a yell, chucked it at the wall. It fell with a dull clatter and Hiccup pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, gritting his teeth.

 

The Night Fury watched his rider as his back pressed against the wall and slid down it. He gave a soft rumble in his throat and crawled closer, pressing the tip of his nose to the prince’s elbow. The lines around his eyes were creased, worried, and his purrs grew louder, warmer.

 

Tired green eyes flickered open and a shaking hand sought Toothless’s snout.

 

The dragon pressed into the palm and rubbed against it, giving the skin a gentle lick.

 

Hiccup’s lips trembled as he tried to quirk them upwards. “Hey, bud,” he croaked. “You’ve been kinda quiet tonight, huh? Something wrong? You okay?”

 

Toothless bore his stare into his rider’s eyes and his own closed, his purr rumbling deep in his chest as the prince began to stroke the crown of his head. Hiccup laid his arm around the dragon’s neck when Toothless lowered himself down and placed his large head in Hiccup’s lap. The dragon’s warmth spread throughout Hiccup’s entire body and the corners of the dragon’s mouth curled when he felt his rider slump against him.

 

His eyes slit open when Hiccup croaked out a huff of laughter and the dragon gave the smallest of winces; it was an unpleasant sound, the laugh. Toothless knew many of his rider’s laughs; the sarcastic ones, the scared and nervous chuckles that were more like gasps for breath, the deep throated ones that spoke of pure joy. There were many new laughs when the new human had come into their lives. They were nice ones. He liked hearing them.

 

This was not one he liked.

 

It came from the gut that churned with unpleasant thoughts and smelled of a barely restrained, overwhelming and what might have been hints of despair and resignation.

 

Toothless hated that smell.

 

Concerned, he crooned quietly and Hiccup raised his head from its place on Toothless’s snout.

 

“Not how I expected the night to turn out,” he remarked dryly. His lips stretched further across his face as they trembled. “Is it bad that I was kinda hoping that he wouldn’t ask me about the whole marriage thing?”

 

The dragon’s eyes seemed to crinkle, as if he had brows and they were furrowing in disapproval. He chuffed out a low rumble, too soft to be a growl. A sound of admonishment.

 

Hiccup laughed and Toothless was pleased to hear the slightest hint of sincerity. 

 

“Yeah, I know, I had it coming,” he said softly. “I should’ve known that he’d ask sooner or later. He has the right to know, considering I’m the one who asked him in the first place, right?”

 

The Night Fury gave a soft grumble and huff through his nose.

 

The corner of Hiccup’s mouth twitched, but the half-smile soon fell. Closing his eyes with a long, weary exhale, Hiccup slumped further against the dragon, his arms wrapped around Toothless’s neck keeping him from completely collapsing to the floor.

 

“Maybe this was all a mistake.”

 

Had the dragon a set of eyebrows, they would’ve furrowed in confusion in sync with the quiet, inquisitive rumble deep in his chest.

 

Hiccup’s eyelids lowered into a half-lidded stare and he spoke into the smooth scales along the crown of Toothless’s head. It was a quiet murmur that was sharp to the dragon’s ears.

 

“Maybe... I should’ve just stayed gone. Stayed out of sight. Never sent that letter. Never put in the stupid effort of hoping.”

 

A soft growl bit past Toothless’s teeth and he bumped the tip of his nose against Hiccup’s chin. At Hiccup’s noise and look of protest and indignation, his growl grew louder.

 

The hardened expression on Hiccup’s face crumbled. He sighed heavily and lowered his head to press his forehead against Toothless’s snout.

 

“He doesn’t love me, bud,” he whispered. “I know that. You know that. And everyone keeps hoping that he will, trying to get us to spend alone time together in hopes that he does, but--” he exhaled slowly.

 

Toothless could feel his rider’s lashes against his scales, the tremble in his voice.

 

“..That’s not something you can just force. I was-- I was _so_ ** _happy_ ** when he said yes, but--” A shuddering breath and a huff of laughter that choked. “Well, I guess if I was in the position he was, I’d want to do anything to make sure that my family would live without worry.”

 

Toothless’s eyes crinkled and the skin around the lids tightened as he crooned, inquisitive and soft.

 

“Of course I do, bud,” Hiccup said, lifting his head to give the dragon a hard look, mouth in a firm line. “Gods, I would _love_ it if he could somehow return all these stupid feelings, but...” Unable to keep his stern expression, he pursed his lips. “..He doesn’t. It’s not even about my particular problem anymore, bud. If he doesn’t love me... well, he doesn’t love me.” He shrugged.

 

“I don’t want to force him into a marriage where he won’t be happy. I’d rather he have that choice to go, if that’s what he wants. I’ll take him back myself, if that’s what he wants. It’s just--” Leaning his head back until it hit the wood, he sighed and closed his eyes. “...I’d rather see him leave and be happy than stay out of a feeling of obligation.”

 

Toothless didn’t understand why humans made relationships so much more complicated for themselves than they needed to be. He knew about Hiccup’s feelings for the Southern boy for years, he’d watched them grow slowly over time, as a seed dropped to the ground slowly becomes a tree, a flower, spreading its roots deep within the earth until it was unmovable.

 

Toothless knew that humans could be selfish. He knew that his rider had his self-centered tendencies, oft involving flying off to distant waters and lands despite protest from his peers and family, unwilling to listen, going head-on with his absurd ideas at full speed.

 

Toothless knew that Hiccup’s feelings for the Southern boy... they were not selfish.

 

Hiccup would not risk himself like this if they were.

 

He would never give Jack the choice and freedom to leave and then turn back on his acceptance whenever he wanted.

 

No matter how much pain it would cause him.

 

Before Hiccup, Toothless had no love for humans. Their weapons were sharp and their ropes hurt, and so many of his kin and brethren fell at their hands. They were angry and hateful, and Toothless felt nothing but a mutual disgust with them, the same they had for his kind. Hiccup was no different from them, at first. He shot him down and took away his flight; Toothless hated him when that spindly, skinny human’s shadow fell over his immobile body that misty day in the woods.

 

He watched the boy raise his dagger high above his head, glinting in the dim light, and Toothless was ready to accept his fate, no matter how scared he was.

 

The human boy’s heart was beating so fast that day. Too fast.

 

Before Toothless realized it, the rope was falling from his constricted body and the dagger had been tossed away. The boy freed him, and even after roaring in his face, the boy came back to the cove and gave him food.

 

Toothless learned as much about humans as Hiccup did about dragons, those warm dusk days.

 

He learned that they could be kind, compassionate, protective and so very clever. Even if their skin was not soft and was littered with scars, just as his own body was, they could be so gentle. They would do anything for those they cared about.

 

And he knew their capacity for love.

 

Toothless loved Hiccup. Hiccup loved Toothless.

 

Their shared love was an immoveable mountain. Toothless would die before he let anyone take that love from him, and he knew, even if he didn’t have the human words to articulate it in a way that his rider could understand; Hiccup would do the same for him.

 

Hiccup’s heart was overflowing, and Toothless thought the Southern boy that smelled like winter was blessed and lucky to have that love. He didn’t understand why the Southern boy would not see it, why he had not allowed himself to see it until now. It angered him, the pain the Southern boy caused his rider, and Hiccup’s willing acceptance of such pain angered him more.

 

Toothless hated to see his human in pain. The smell of such anguish coming from his rider made his stomach churn with bile and made him want to enclose his wings around the tiny human to keep him safe.

 

But even the strongest of dragons could not protect their humans from the full force of their emotions.

 

The dragon’s eyes crinkled and he whined, wrapping his tail around his human’s waist to pull him closer and keep him warm from the chill crawling between the cracks in the wooden panes.

 

He felt a huff of laughter against his cheek. “Hey, don’t be getting upset and depressed on me. I’ll be okay, buddy.”

 

He was lying.

 

Toothless knew he was. He always knew when Hiccup was lying.

 

(Maybe if he lied to Toothless about his being okay, he could convince himself that he’d be okay, too.)

 

Another soft laugh, more like a croak. Fingers curled against his chin and shuddered. “I mean, it’s been nearly four years, I guess I should be used to it by now. I guess it’s not all that bad. I.. kinda like being able to fly with you and you not needing me in the air.”

 

Toothless’s eyes slit open and he bared his teeth in a low growl. Not menacing or threatening; admonishing.

 

“I know, I know,” Hiccup whispered. “It’s not the same, is it?”

 

Toothless crooned softly and nuzzled the human’s chin.

 

No, it wasn’t.

 

Toothless hated flying without Hiccup, and what an odd feeling that was. He used to love flying solo. He used to hate Hiccup for taking that away from him; but without any obligation, perhaps out of guilt and more out of true understanding, Hiccup gave him that freedom back.

 

Toothless **needed** Hiccup, and being in the sky without him on his back felt wrong. They were meant to fly _together_ , not separately.

 

Toothless wanted nothing more than to truly fly with Hiccup under the light of the sun again, to bare themselves to the wind and the horizons as they were always meant to. It was a sentiment Hiccup shared, he knew. He felt it.

 

Toothless was not sure what he thought of the Southern Boy. He was not sure if he liked him. But he made Hiccup happy. He also made Hiccup sad, and Toothless didn’t like that.

 

But Hiccup had a particular smell about him when the Southern Boy was with him. A happiness different than the one they shared together. Not better, just different.

 

Well.

 

As long as the Southern boy made Hiccup happy, Toothless wouldn’t mind him being there.

 

The Night Fury closed his eyes and wrapped a wing around his human’s back. Toothless felt Hiccup smile against his scales and listened as his breathing evened out into soft, regular breaths. He fell asleep and Toothless quickly followed him.

 

Toothless did not wake until he felt the cold winds carry a hint of warmth through the walls of the forge. Stirring, he lifted his wings to look out the window. A soft whine-growl rumbled deep within his throat when he saw rays of yellow-white over the horizon. Nudging his nose against the side of his human’s head, he crooned and breathed softly into his hair to wake him.

 

He waited until he saw Hiccup’s face twitch, brows furrowed with a reluctance to wake. His rider blinked at him, green eyes bleary and confused.

 

“Whassit, bud...?” he croaked, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.

 

The lines of Toothless’s eyes tightened, pained, and his heart was heavy. Crooning low, he lifted his snout to the window.

 

Hiccup’s gaze followed his.

 

The way that his rider’s face crumpled at the sight of the rising sun--

 

If he were human and had the words and language to articulate it, Toothless’s heart would’ve shattered at the look on Hiccup’s face.

 

It was with a shuddering sigh, his legs shaking from sleep and emotionally exhausted, that Hiccup lifted himself up.

 

The whine in Toothless’s throat came out naturally, pained and low, and he tapped the tip of his nose to Hiccup’s back, pressing into the small of it. He didn’t want him to go.

 

Hiccup looked over his shoulder and attempted a smile. It was watery, trembling and agonized.

 

“It’s okay, bud,” Hiccup croaked, giving the Night Fury’s nose a final rub. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

 

The Night Fury’s wings folded tight against his sides and Toothless whimpered, a deep rumble in his stomach that exhaled through his nose as a shuddering whine, as the prince stepped away from him and removed his hand.

 

The orange, yellow and purple clouds of the sky were steadily growing brighter. The sun’s light began to glow on Hiccup’s skin, starting at his feet, and rising to his face.

 

Hiccup closed his eyes, breathed, and waited.

 

Toothless used to love the sun and its warmth. He hated it now, because it took his human away from him.

 

It just wasn’t the same anymore.

 

Toothless closed his eyes at his rider’s pained noises and shuddered, waiting for it to come to an end.

 

Gobber woke up hours later and strode into the shop. A grim, somber smile grew crooked on his lips as he stumbled upon the two dragons curled up next to each other and sleeping beside the furnace, half-brimming with fire.

 

\---

 

The sky was grey and Jack rubbed his eyes, sighing and lowering himself down enough that he could rest his cheek on the arm of the chair. He held the book loosely in his hands, half-pressed against his knee, and tucked his legs in. He was tired. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and he didn’t want to see anyone.

 

After nibbling on his breakfast, Jack considered his options and decided that he wanted to stay inside for the day.

 

Astrid came by a couple hours after breakfast, and frowned when Jack turned down her offer to take him to training. She studied him and his face for a long held beat and with a shrug, said ‘okay,’ and left with a request that Jack enjoy his time relaxing and by himself, smiling as she led herself out the door.

 

He felt that she saw right through him. It was a discomforting feeling.

 

He’d walked around the manor with care once Astrid left, the floorboards creaking under his weight, watching for any sign of the Royal Parents and their son. He’d frowned when he saw no one, chest feeling airy from a mixture of relief and disappointment. The manor seemed too empty, a rather uncharacteristic atmosphere.

 

Jack was used to the sound of dragons warbling, roaring and crying from above and outside, the rumble of the King’s voice and the Queen’s quiet, agile footsteps. But the manor was empty as a wood in autumn.

 

It left Jack feeling unnerved and so he chose to hole himself up in the library, set with a roaring fire and curled up on a warm chair. He took a book Hiccup had pointed out to him just nights ago and began to read, letting the day pass him by in quiet.

 

The smell of sea salt and the ocean, or what Jack presumed the ocean smelled like, was not unpleasant to him in the least. With the addition of the burning logs of fire, it created an ambience that Jack found relaxing and comforting. Something he sorely needed after last night’s events.

 

He read to try to not think about it. He managed to get halfway into his book before his mind began to sleepily drift.

 

The manor was so quiet that he’d assumed everyone was out for the day. He wondered if that meant he and Hiccup wouldn’t be sharing a dinner that night.

 

A cold weight settled in Jack’s stomach and tightened his throat at the thought. Swallowing, he pursed his lips and continued to read, banishing those thoughts from his mind utterly. Absorbed as he became in the pile of books gathering on the table beside him, the light of the fire making his eyelids grow heavy, he succumbed to his exhausted body and fell asleep, cheek pressed against the arm of the chair.

 

As he slept, he missed the sound of claws scraping against the roof and walls, a heavy weight clinging to them. Heavy feet patted across the roof, slow and careful. Quiet despite the weight. They came to a pause, and then descended down the wall. A pair of green eyes peered at the sleeping young man through the window, lingering, before looking away with a relieved huff through the nose.

 

Wings spread and joined with a pair of black wings, flying through the late afternoon sky.

 

When Jack awoke hours later, the sun was beginning to set. The fire in the hearth had died down to mere flickers of flame, leaving red pieces of wood beaming with warmth and light. He frowned and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the book in his hand, half-hazardly open and staying put on his knee.

 

“The day went by without me,” he murmured. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and stood. He left a bookmark in the tome and walked towards his room, rubbing his eyes.

 

He was disappointed that he didn’t get the chance to spend the day with his draconic companion. He saw the auburn dragon almost every day now, and to sleep the day away left him feel out of sorts and guilty. He should’ve stayed awake longer just so he could say hello to the dragon. And night was approaching; the dragon would be going to sleep soon.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise,” Jack swore, dragging his fingers along the windowpane, book pressed to his chest.

 

He lit the candle at his desk and sat, frowning down at his sister’s letters; she’d been so curious about Hiccup and wanted to know more about him. In her latest letter, the one she’d sent before his latest reply, she told him she’d like to meet him one day, maybe after they were married and he’d come home to visit. He wondered what she’d say now if she knew that there was a possibility that there wouldn’t even _be_ a wedding in the first place.

 

She’d throw one of her shoes at him and call him an idiot, he was sure.

 

Smiling, he laughed.

 

When the sun had set and the stars were bright in the new moon sky, his smiles were gone and his stomach was twisted tight. He glanced at the door from his perch by the window, book still clutched in his lap and swallowed. He waited.

 

There were light footsteps outside his door.

 

Jack’s breath caught. He sat up.

 

The footsteps came to a stop in front of his door, the floorboards creaking underneath their weight. There was a held beat that Jack refused to breathe during as no further noise was made. The footsteps then continued and disappeared down the hallway after half a minute of nothing.

 

Jack stared at the door and slumped in his seat, drawing his knees close to his chest. Lowering his book and wrapping his arms around his shins, he perched his chin on his knee and wondered why his chest had begun to hurt.

 

\---

 

How rare it’d become, spending a night with his son.

 

Skullcrusher didn’t regularly require baths, but the Rumblehorn enjoyed being pampered despite his fearsome disposition. The dragon could clean himself, but both he and his rider enjoyed the quiet bonding they’d have during those baths. Stoick found a challenge in cleaning such a large dragon with a sharp horn that could gut him in seconds. But he knew Skullcrusher would never do such a thing.

 

Hiccup inviting himself and offering to help his father bathe Skullcrusher was a surprise.

 

“Want some help?” Hiccup asked, smiling.

 

Stoick stared at his son and the odd strain to his mouth, as if he were struggling to keep it upright. “I suppose I could.”

 

He wasn’t surprised to see Toothless join them, laying on his back and ready to be pampered by his son. His tongue was lolling out past his sharp teeth and Stoick could only marvel in humor that he once believed the Night Fury to be the greatest boogeyman known to Berk. He was more like a lazy house-cat than a vicious dragon some days with the way he hoarded Hiccup’s attention.

 

They went to the washing station behind the manor and Hiccup climbed up the steps to dump the water over both Skullcrusher and Toothless. The Rumblehorn was still as the water washed over him and Toothless coiled underneath it, gurgling the water playfully. Stoick took a large brush and scrubbed the Rumblehorn clean. The dragon loved the attention and kept still.

 

Toothless made it challenging work for Hiccup. The dragon kept squirming and trying to play with the prince, green eyes flickering with mischief.

 

They didn’t talk about much, just little things; what Stoick did that day, what Sven was complaining about this time regarding his sheep, where Mom was, all things that would’ve been seen as fluffy and meaningless to anyone else. Stoick treasured these talks whenever he could get them.

 

He’d seen so little of his son these weeks, less than he had before Jack. Every moment he could spend alone with Hiccup was to be treasured. Far greater than the finest jewel or sharpest axe was the time he managed to find with his son. He saw what other fathers took for granted with their children and kept them close to his heart; more than ever did he know that not a moment was to be wasted with his child.

 

Not when that child could be taken away from him at a moment’s notice.

 

The hearth the dragons lit kept the stables warm as the dragons dried themselves. Toothless was curled up against Hiccup, as always, and Stoick idly stroked Skullcrusher’s horn as his dragon slept, satiated by his warm bath.

 

“It’s late,” Stoick said. His brows furrowed and he frowned, realizing just what time it was. “You won’t be spending the evening with Jackson?”

 

He did not miss how Hiccup’s shoulders stiffened.

 

The prince rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the head of his sleeping Night Fury, tucked in his lap. “Aha, no,” he laughed, “I figured it’d be best to leave him alone for tonight, maybe a couple of days.”

 

Stoick’s frown deepened. “What happened?”

 

His son’s smile wavered. “I told him that he could go home whenever he wanted.”

 

Stoick stared at his son, shocked.

 

“Why...” he breathed, voice beginning to build as anger grew, “Why would you say that?! _Hiccup!_ ”

 

Hiccup didn’t flinch as his father’s voice rose. He stared ahead, his face devoid of any emotion.

 

Toothless’s eyes cracked open, concerned, and he wrapped his tail around his rider’s legs to keep him close.

 

The frustration only grew. “I can’t believe that you’d just throw away your last chance, Hiccup! You have barely a year left and I refuse to let you give up like this! I am not going to hand you over to them and to **_her_**. Why in Odin’s name would you try to push him away?”

 

“He doesn’t love me, Dad,” Hiccup said flatly.

 

Struck silent, the last of Stoick’s angry protests died in the hollow of his throat.

 

Hiccup laughed and it pricked at Stoick’s flesh; it carried none of the sheepish mirth that so belonged in his son’s laughter. It was bitter, it was sad and, to his dismay, defeated.

 

“How can I make someone who doesn’t love me _marry_ me, Dad?” Hiccup pleaded, his voice cracking on the last vowel.

 

Stoick’s throat felt clogged and thick when Hiccup looked at him, only to see those green eyes that belonged to his mother, eyes he loved so much, watery and red.

 

“I know, I know I don’t have that much time left, but---” Hiccup sucked in a shaky breath and tucked his knees in, wrapping his arms around them. A black tail wrapped around his middle more firmly and Hiccup pressed against his dragon’s softly purring body, the vibrations soothing to his anxious nerves.

 

“Dad... I can’t do that. I can’t just _force_ someone to marry me. If he came here of his own will, well... he can leave of his own will, too. I won’t force him to stay. I want to give him that choice.”

 

A choice that was stolen from you, Stoick thought.

 

His feet felt heavy as he went to his son and placed a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. He felt trembles beneath his palm.

 

“When did you get so noble?” Stoick mumbled, corner of his mouth quirking upward.

 

Hiccup coughed a wet laugh and leaned into his father’s touch. He smiled when his father squeezed his shoulder gently.

 

Purring softly, Toothless nudged his rider’s cheek.

 

Valka found her husband and child curled up against each other when she went to check on them, pails of water left forgotten and large brushes cast aside as they’d both fell into a light nap. She smiled and hoped to the gods and the winds that this would no longer be such a rare sight to her. She hoped she could see this every day.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack watched as the children filtered out of the arena, giving a smile and final pat to Sophie’s hair, then ruffling her protesting brother’s with a grin, as he said his goodbye to them for the day. The sun began to descend, and the dragon riders were turning in for the night. His smile wavered as their backs turned and he sighed. It was the gentle weight of a heavy snout resting on his shoulder and a warm breath against his cheek that had him smiling again, however small the curve of his mouth was.

 

The auburn dragon purred low in his throat as Jack rubbed his cheek.

 

Jack wondered if this was going to be another night he and Hiccup wouldn’t spend together.

 

On the second night that he’d heard Hiccup stand outside his door but not knock did Jack realize that this was Hiccup’s way of giving him space to decide what he wanted to do. He was avoiding talking to him again because he probably thought that Jack was mad at him for unleashing such a heavy decision on him, and-- well, he was half-right. Jack was mad at him and he kind of wanted to throw the prince’s dragon manual at him for ruining the mood as he did the other night.

 

It was the memory of the look on the prince’s masked face that kept Jack from confronting him and lashing out.

 

It’d been three nights, now. This would be the fourth.

 

And Jack’s emotions were a pure mess.

 

He almost didn’t hear the sound of boots approaching him from behind, and he wouldn’t have noticed if not for the dragon’s curious croon and the weight lifting off of his shoulder. Turning, Jack blinked and looked behind him.

 

Fishlegs’s smile was kind and Meatlug was panting happily, waddling her way to the auburn dragon to press her nose against his. 

 

The dragons talked amongst themselves and Fishlegs asked, “Feel like going to the nursery with me? Meatlug could use some of our help in bathing her babies.”

 

Jack considered the other male and glanced at the auburn dragon, who only blinked at him slowly. He paused, then shrugged, managing a tiny smile in return. “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

 

The dragon nursery was another building in the village that Jack frequented; not only were Meatlug’s babies there, but so were Stormfly’s, and Jack had been there many times with Astrid to help her get the young ones flying. Her enthusiasm and love for her dragon’s babies was endearing, seeing as Astrid herself admitted that she wasn’t really the best with children. She was a bit too stern and hard-edged, especially for the younger, shyer children. The twins and Snotlout weren’t much better, but Fishlegs was an excellent teacher and he adored the children almost as much as Jack did. He showed the baby dragons just as much love and affection as he did the kids and his own Gronkle.

 

It was relaxing and Jack often just enjoyed watching Fishlegs play with the babies, a smile on his face.

  
He thought of how Hiccup lavished Sharpshot when she was so inclined to visit her trainer, scratching underneath her chin and idly rubbing her back when she curled up perfectly in his lap, as if she were a cat or a child.

 

And yet, he’d still be sure to give a whiny, jealous Toothless as much attention as needed. He cared so much for his dragons..

 

A sudden clenching deep within his chest, the smile slipped off his lips.

 

Feeling a sudden heavy weight in his lap, Jack jolted and blinked. He looked down to see an open-mouthed, happily smiling baby dragon with bright yellow eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked and he rubbed the baby’s nose. He felt the air next to him shift as Fishlegs sat down.

 

“They really seem to like you,” Fishlegs noted, grinning.

 

Jack shrugged and continued to pet the happily warbling baby Gronkle. The siblings were beginning to waddle over to him, also yearning for attention. “They probably smell Big Guy on me, they like him even more.”

 

“Oh, yeah, they adore him, too,” Fishlegs agreed. Jack was too busy giving the babies attention to notice the way his grin spread. “He’s kind of all of the babies’ babysitter when their parents are off on assignments or training. Sometimes he takes care of them just when the parents need a break.”

 

A soft chuckle rumbled in Jack’s throat and he rubbed the stomach of a sleeping baby Gronkle that’d made itself comfortable in his lap. “Seems to be the babysitter for the human kids, too.”

 

Fishleg’s smile turned a tad cheeky. “He can be, it’s just convenient that he’s there most of the time now.”

 

Jack hummed and the next few minutes passed on in silence. The babies began to fall asleep as the shadows of night descended on the village.

 

“I haven’t seen much of you these past few days,” Fishlegs started. The hesitance stuck out, as if he were trying to carefully walk on dragon eggshells. “The kids were asking where you’ve been before today, they missed you.”

 

Jack held back a heavy sigh.

 

He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. The baby in his lap was asleep and dozing softly against his leg. “I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking lately and needed some time to myself to consider everything.”

 

“Oh,” Fishlegs said. He fiddled with his fingers as the air between them became heavier, the subject even more so. “Have you come to a decision yet, for whatever it is?”

 

Jack tilted his head back and watched the stars unveil themselves from the shroud of daylight, the last clouds departing over the peaks of the mountains.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

_I don’t know anything_.

 

Fishlegs let the subject drop there and Jack was grateful to him for it.

 

They spent a few more hours together at the nursery and Jack helped him clean it up, glaring at Fishlegs for laughing at him as he shoveled away the dragon manure, grimacing at the smell and eventually pulling his scarf up over his nose to try to deter it. His shoulders ached by the time they were done and his biceps throbbed, but as he walked back to the manor with the dragon rider, he decided that he was appropriately tired and relaxed. It helped take his mind off of things he’d rather not think of.

 

He went inside the manor tired, hungry, a little sore, and feeling only marginally better.

 

Upon arriving at his room, he changed into clean clothes and lounged on his bed, arms tucked behind his neck as he stared up at the drapes of the canopy. The sun had fallen down over an hour ago and there was no sign of Hiccup anywhere. Jack heard the flap of wings above him and assumed it was Toothless, but he couldn’t tell if they were landing on the roof, on the ground, or taking off somewhere.

 

Scowl forming on his lips as his chest tightened, he turned on his side and nuzzled his cheek into the comforter.

 

He wanted to be angry. He wanted nothing more than to be angry at Hiccup for avoiding him like this, to just be solely angry at him and not have this empty feeling growing in the pit of his stomach knowing that he was avoiding him and why. Jack knew exactly why Hiccup was avoiding him and that knowledge didn’t make him feel any better.

 

It just made him feel worse.

 

Sighing haggardly into the sheets, Jack drew his legs up and curled into a ball. He was ready to pull the covers over himself so he could sleep and try not to think about any of it. He didn’t want to think about it anymore; it hurt.

 

Jack was almost asleep when he heard a soft knock on the door.

 

Eyes snapping open, he threw his legs over the side of his bed and half-sprinted to the door, nearly tripping over the boots that were left discarded on the floor. Swallowing the hammering heart in his throat down, he righted himself before the doorway and grasped the handle, twisting and pulling it open, flicker of a smile twitching on his lips.

 

His anticipation dropped alongside his smile when he saw not Hiccup in the hallway, but the queen herself instead. There was a smile on her face.

 

It had a curious, sympathetic twist to it.

 

“Oh, hello, Your.... Highness,” Jack said stupidly, flinching at how awkward it felt on his mouth. He tried desperately to hide the sudden wave of disappointment.

 

Valka chuckled. “We’ve talked about this, Jack; you’re allowed to just call me by ‘Valka,’ there’s no need for formalities here.”

 

“Right,” Jack mumbled, fiddling with his fingers and staring down at them with an embarrassed flush. “Sorry.”

 

She waved him off. “It’s no matter. I understand that you’re probably disappointed that I am not my son.”

 

Shoulders tensing, Jack looked warily up at the queen, lips pursed into a firm line. “I don’t know what you mean,” he lied quietly, returning his stare to the floor.

 

Her smile softened and pity stretched out the lines of her crow’s feet. “I think you do,” she said softly.

 

Jack frowned, hid a flinch, and said nothing.

 

Silence passed between them before Valka sighed, a quick noise that didn’t speak of annoyance, but determination. She patted down the front of her heavy coat, protecting her slight form andstepped towards him.

 

“How would you like to walk with me for a bit?”

 

Given how he had little else to do besides sit in his room, wait for the next day’s letter to arrive and hear nothing but an empty hall on the other side of the door, Jack saw no reason to say no. Between the two, he’d prefer to spend time alone with Valka than Stoick. Not to say that the king was a bad person, no; Jack understood that the man loved his son quite early on. The race thrown in honor of their engagement was proof enough, but when it came to talking to either on a more direct, casual level... Valka was the more approachable of the two.

 

And so, with a shrug and a faint half-smile, Jack agreed.

 

Jack ate a quick dinner first at Valka’s behest, frowning sternly when he told her that he wasn’t hungry. It was at her hard green-eyed stare that he wilted and went downstairs for a light meal; he truly wasn’t feeling that hungry..

 

After he was finished, she took him outside, all bundled up to preserve warmth.

 

Cloudjumper preened beneath Valka’s attention, the large, owl-like dragon purring and tilting his head every so often as the woman dragged her nails across an itchy, sensitive patch of scaly skin. 

 

Jack tossed some fish Cloudjumper’s way, the dragon catching them instantly, and grinned when the dragon gave a pleased warble.

 

Valka sat before the fire she’d started for them, Cloudjumper’s tail laid across her lap and her fingers lightly dancing across the scales. “Are you warm, Jackson?”

 

Blinking out of his listless stupor of staring into the fire, Jack started and looked up. “Pardon?”

 

She smiled and leaned forward. “I mean clothes-wise. You’ve been given enough to be comfortable and warm, correct? If not, just tell me and I shall get you some more new clothes.”

 

“Oh, no no, it’s fine, really,” Jack replied, smiling when Valka’s lips fell into a frown. He waved her concerns off. “I don’t mind the cold, honestly. I like it, and I’m warm enough with what I have. Thank you, though.”

 

She studied him for half a minute, then her smile returned. “All right. Just let any of us know if there’s any more you need.”

 

“I’ll be sure to,” he said, jolting a little as Cloudjumper nuzzled his snout beneath his hand. Surprised but pleased, Jack smiled warmly and rubbed the dragon’s nose. The Stormcutter was normally rather aloof and he really only saw the dragon be so openly affectionate around Valka and sometimes Toothless. It was a nice change.

 

..Toothless. He hadn’t seen much of the Night Fury since that night. He assumed that he was with Hiccup the entire time. Given how their last conversation went, it wouldn’t be surprising if the dragon didn’t want to be around him at all.

 

The smile fell and he stared at the ground.

 

“...How’s Hiccup?”

 

Valka lifted her head towards Jack and saw him staring out at the horizon, gazing at the empty peaks of the mountains. “Haven’t you seen him recently?”

 

Jack smiled and it carried no joy as he shook his head. “Not really. I haven’t seen him for the past few nights.”

  
Valka said nothing, her lips in a quiet line.

 

Jack scuffed his heel into the snow. “We.. I wouldn’t call it a fight, or even an argument, but we had a talk a few days ago and.. It didn’t really end on a positive note.” He scratched the back of his neck, fingertips lingering on his skin. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t want to talk to me at all for a while.”

 

Valka looked at him from the corner of her eyes as she continued to stroke Cloudjumper’s scales. “What did you talk about?”

 

Biting his lips and rolling the skin between his teeth, he turned to look out at the village and its rooftops. “Our engagement, I guess.”

 

She did not reply.

 

The words fell out before he could stop himself. “He told me that I have the choice to say no and go home, if I wanted.”

 

Valka closed her eyes and turned her head away from him, exhaling sharply through her nose. She couldn’t let him see her expression; one of panic, a flash of anger, then finishing with a flood of sadness.

 

“Yes, that’s a choice you have,” she said, keeping her tone neutral.

 

“But why?” Jack’s voice steadily began to raise, confused anger taking hold. His face scrunched with irritation and his hands curled into fists on his knees. “I already said yes, he knows that, _why_ \-- why does he think that I would go back on my promise **now**?”

 

The flap of a bird’s wings overlaid the silence that fell between the Queen and Jack.

 

Licking her bottom lip, Valka lifted her head and stared at the half-moon, starting from a new cycle, and pursed her lips once more. She tried to see if she could find a sleek black figure darting through the sky. He always went out flying when he was frustrated, angry, or scared. Sometimes he flew away from Berk because he felt stifled or just needed to escape the air of the village.

 

“Hiccup...” she started, “Has always had a difficult time believing in himself.”

 

She turned and saw an expression of confused skepticism on Jack’s face. It made her smile.

 

“Oh, he’s certainly more sure of himself _now_ , in his inventions and in his abilities as a dragon trainer and rider. When it comes to proving himself on a more public scale, so long as it concerns something he cares deeply about, he’s confident. Far more than he used to be. The matters of the person and the heart, though...”

 

Her smile wavered into something sad.

 

“That’s always been rather difficult.”

 

And she knew-- she had a part in that. Valka was not proud of that fact.

 

Cloudjumper’s eyes flickered open as he smelled the change in his rider’s mood. He stared at her, unblinking and lowered his large head to lean against her thigh. They closed when her hand lowered onto the crown of his head.

 

“It’s not that he doesn’t care, Jack. He _does_ ,” she said, making sure to keep her voice firm. “If he didn’t care... I don’t think he would’ve given you that choice at all.”

 

She knew of some spoiled royal children and their attitudes towards their sense of entitlement. A lesser prince would’ve never given Jack an option to back out on his decision, leave and go home, turning down his marriage proposal after all. It was entirely possible that, had it been another prince, he would’ve been more forceful and demanding, he would see a rejection as a blow to his pride. Hiccup was no such child.

 

It was one of the many things she was proud of him for.

 

Jack stared at her and then lowered his gaze, keeping it to the ground as he chewed on his inner cheek. “Does he think that I hate him that much?”

 

His voice had lowered into a murmur and it carried a mournful sound, with an undercurrent of annoyance underneath. Valka’s eyebrows rose, but she hid her surprise and intrigue. “I do not think that he believes you hate him. If he thought you hated him, he would’ve sent you home straight away.”

 

“Then why did he say that?” He croaked.

 

“What did he say?” She asked, gently.

 

(She already knew what he said. She and her husband shared a mutual disappointment and fear that Hiccup was just throwing his last chance away, but--- he was not wrong. She knew this, much as she loathed admitting to. If Jack did not love him... it was all fruitless, anyway. For her son’s sake and her own, she needed to know, too.

 

Valka had only known Jackson for little more than a month, yet she was growing increasingly fond of him. He made Hiccup happy. She wanted her son to be nothing more than happy, and if Jack could do that.. )

 

“‘I’m not going to force someone who doesn’t love me to marry me,’” Jack said dully. “That’s what he said.”

 

“Do you?”

 

Jack sat up, his back straight. The wideness of his brown eyes would’ve been amusing if not for the flash of fear she saw in them. He licked his lips, pursing them tightly and glanced to the side, avoiding her unblinking stare. He was unnerved.

 

She leaned back and trained her expression to not be so stern; Valka did not want to scare him off. But she **did** want him to be honest.

 

Most of all, with himself.

 

“Do you?” She asked again, this time more gently. Valka was careful to lower her tone to a softer register, making sure that Jack knew she was not angry at him. “Do you not want to marry him?”

 

He wasn’t looking at her. “I already agreed, isn’t that enough?”

 

_Gods, he’s just as stubborn as Hiccup is._

 

No wonder Hiccup was drawn to him; they were similar in ways they never would’ve thought possible.

 

“I’m afraid you’re not answering the question, Jack,” she said, a frown pulling at her lips. She resisted the urge to sigh. “I’m not asking whether or not you’re choosing to decline your original acceptance. I’m asking you, now, if you want to marry him or not. Without any other attachments or obligations, what do you, Jackson Overland, want?”

 

Silence.

 

Valka waited.

 

Jack continued to look at the tips of his boots, his fingers clutching the bench, silent. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. His knuckles were white and his breathing rate had elevated. He blinked rapidly and finally bit down on his bottom lip.

 

“I---” He managed, his voice cracking a little. Jack flinched at how ugly the sound was, embarrassed, but Valka’s expression did not change. “I don’t---”

 

He stopped when Valka held up a hand.

 

“You don’t need to answer now,” she said softly. “I know that it is a lot to think about, and I do not expect you to give me an answer, if any, at this time. I’d rather you take the time to think about it, as much as you like. As much as you need. Just remember; this is your choice, and yours alone. We cannot make this for you.”

 

Her smile was kind, but the lines of her eyes were sad.

 

“I know quite a lot about being confused regarding what I wanted when I was your age,” she said. There was a beat, and then a soft huff of laughter through her nose. “Perhaps that makes me sound old, but I _do_ understand your position, Jack.” Brushing the snow off of her knees and the front of her thick fur coat, Valka stood.

 

“What were you confused about?” Jack blurted, then shrunk back a little at Valka’s curious stare over her shoulder. “I mean-- you said you were once in a similar position as me... what do you mean by that?”

 

Valka’s smile widened.

 

“Being struck with the knowledge that someone of royal blood has affections for you, when you yourself are of common birth, can be quite the confusing junction to be in.”

 

Valka bid Jack goodnight, and he watched her leave with Cloudjumper in tow. He turned his stare to the ground, then to the sky. Clouds were beginning to form together thickly. It was going to snow soon.

 

He searched the night skies for a shadow slipping through the stars and clouds.

 

* * *

 

 

“Let’s go ice-skating.”

 

Hiccup, having jumped from the pair of skates being tossed onto the worktable behind him, blinked owlishly at Jack, saying nothing.

 

Crossing his arms, Jack made a show of false confidence and puffed his chest out, even as his heart hammered a thousand beats at a time, making it difficult to swallow a breath down. He felt his anxiety curl into a ball at the back of his throat.

 

They hadn’t spoken in several days, and Jack personally sought him out after asking Stoick where he was (another feat of courage because the man’s gaze did not feel so welcoming as it had been before, though it softened when Jack held the skates to his chest). It took some hours of internal debate before he went down to the forge.

 

Gobber gave him the skates just as dragon training was finished, none too gently shoving them into Jack’s arms before gruffly saying that Hiccup had done a good job with them.

 

Jack had looked down at them and felt his chest constrict from how good they’d looked.

 

Hiccup’s expression was hesitant and he bit his lip. “Are you... sure? You still want to go?”

 

“Yes,” Jack said firmly, frown pulling at his lips. “You finished the skates, Gobber gave them to me earlier and told me.” He ignored the disgruntled look that flashed on his face and Hiccup’s low mutters of what could only be curses towards the blacksmith. He would’ve laughed at any other time. “I just---” Some of his heated anger and determination died down into something a bit more hesitant.

 

Jack licked his bottom lip and Hiccup stared at him, silent and halting.

 

“...You still haven’t gotten a chance to skate, and it’d be a waste of your skills if we didn’t use them at least once.”

 

Hiccup’s expression was infuriatingly hard to read, and Jack couldn’t even study the emotions in his green eyes as they lowered to the skates on the table, running his fingers over the sides and the flat end of the blades. He seemed thoughtful, and Jack watched as he pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. The turn of his head to face him was slow, and he looked at Jack underneath his bangs with such vulnerability that it made his chest feel tight.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Jack stared at him, and swallowed. “Yes?”

 

Hiccup continued to stare. “With me?”

 

“I’m the one who brought it up to you, wasn’t I? I’d like to at least fulfill that promise,” he said, trying for a smile.

 

There was a pause before he saw the corners of Hiccup’s mouth twitch upward. “Well... as long as that’s what you want, okay,” he stood, the chair groaning as it slid out from underneath him. “Then let’s go.”

 

They didn’t speak of the last conversation they’d had the last night they’d spent together as Hiccup got Toothless ready to go flying, putting on his helmet and flying suit. Jack was relieved. He knew they would have to talk about it again at some point and by the fearful expression on Hiccup’s face when he burst into the forge, the skates in hand and Gobber quietly maneuvering himself away from the situation, it would not be long before the prince himself brought it up. But for now, as Jack tightened the scarf around his neck and ran his finger over the curve of the compass to make sure it was still there, they spoke none of it.

 

The silence between them was uncomfortable and grew only more awkward as Jack hoisted himself onto Toothless’s back, who was being quite aloof to him. It hurt a little, though Jack couldn’t blame the Night Fury for not acknowledging him..

 

Though the Night Fury didn’t seem happy about having Jack climbing atop his back, Toothless didn’t try to buck him off, to Jack’s relief. Jack was grateful that he was sitting behind Hiccup so that the prince couldn’t see his face as he had an internal war with himself on whether or not to wrap his arms around Hiccup’s midsection.

 

His arms hovered at the outside of Hiccup’s waist, hesitating.

 

..It’d become so natural and normal to hold onto him like this, when did that happen?

 

Swallowing, his cheeks fighting against the cold from how warm they were, Jack finally decided to wrap his arms around the prince’s waist, pulling himself closer until there were only inches between his chest and Hiccup’s back. He felt Hiccup stiffen against his arms and Jack wanted to hide his face behind his scarf.

 

There was a heavy, awkward beat before Hiccup quietly asked if Jack was ready. 

 

Toothless was staring at Jack from the corner of his eye, the gleam of his slit pupil making Jack feel as if the dragon were staring straight through his flesh and into his soul.

 

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Jack murmured.

 

He closed his eyes and sighed as the wind howled all around him, Toothless’s wings beating loudly on both sides. They didn’t speak for much of the flight, not saying anything significant that he could remember, and he was left in a wordless daze until they landed. It wasn’t far from the village, a rather modest little pond that Hicucp had mentioned before. It actually wasn’t too far from the cove, and that knowledge lessened some of the awkward tension that Jack felt.

 

Sliding off of the saddle, Jack gave the Night Fury a grateful pat to his side, earning a side-glance and a soft grunt, but nothing more. He frowned at the dragon’s attitude but held back a sigh as he decided that he deserved it, if at least in Toothless’s eyes.

 

He stepped away from the pair and came closer to the pond, coming to the edge and looking over the silver sheen of the icy surface. He stretched a leg out and ran the tip of his boot along the ice, blinking at how smooth it felt. He gave a couple taps, earning a dull noise and not a single crack. 

 

“It’s not very deep, and considering how we’re still stuck in the middle of winter here, it should be plenty safe.”

 

Jack turned and found Hiccup standing a couple of feet away from him, a bag slung over his shoulder. He pulled his leg back.

 

“You say that as if from experience,” he said slowly, trying for a small smile.

 

The prince shrugged and his lips took on a sardonic curl. “I’ve only gotten thrown into that pond about half a dozen times by Snotlout, so I know it’s not very deep-- only in the summer, though, not in winter,” he added quickly upon seeing the aghast expression on Jack’s face.

 

Jack’s shoulders relaxed. He exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose that’s a good thing, then.”

 

Hiccup hummed, and silence fell.

 

Jack scuffed his heel into the snow, biting his inner cheek and internally berating himself for not being able to say anything at all.

 

He should ask about their last talk nights before, apologize for hurting Hiccup’s feelings, if he had, tell him that he missed him and that his evenings felt lonely and empty and--

 

Hiccup shook him out of his growing reverie and the tightening of his chest as he lowered the bag to the ground.

 

“The skates are in here,” the prince said quietly, rummaging through it. He pulled out a pair and gave them to Jack, who took them carefully. “These are yours.”

 

Jack stared down at him from beneath the tips of his bangs and saw Hiccup manage a smile.

 

“Let me know if they’re a good fit or not. If not, I can try to adjust them best I can.”

 

Pursing his lips, unable to trust himself to speak (what an odd feeling), Jack nodded and stepped a couple feet away to put them on. To his surprise and pleasure, upon sliding both feet in, they wound up being a near-perfect fit. There were some loose curves around the sides of his feet, but not so much that it was unpleasant. Most important of all to him was that the leather was snug around his ankles, the front of his feet and his heels, such a good fit that the material wouldn’t rub against his skin nor blister it.

 

A smile curled on his lips and he stood, careful and practiced.

 

A wonderful first effort. Hard to believe that it was the first time Hiccup had ever made them.

 

“Well, they feel good so far,” he said, shooting Hiccup a small smile over his shoulder.

 

The prince looked up at him, blinked in surprise, and Jack was pleased to see his mouth twitch upward, though... not as much as he wished it would.

 

_Well_ , he thought as some of his excitement deflated at Hiccup’s quiet distance, _at least it’s_ ** _something_** _. Better than him not talking to you at all._

 

“I’m glad,” Hiccup said, giving Toothless a stray fish out of his bag (the one that always smelled too much like saltwater and was quite unpleasant) as a treat. His smile stretched a bit further as Jack stood with perfect balance.

 

Then, it was time to really test them out on the ice.

 

Some nervous jitters fluttered in Jack’s stomach as he recalled all to vividly about the last time he was on ice and Hiccup was nearby; but as Hiccup said himself, the ice should be safe enough to skate on by now. Jack had no reason to doubt him; as he gingerly stepped onto the ice, careful with each step, he heard not a single crack or groan. Only the tap of metal against frozen water. He stood still against the surface, just inches away from the bank, and held his breath.

 

He closed his eyes and drank in the cold air.

 

Then, he gave a push and felt the breeze tickle against his skin as he moved himself forward, arms beginning to raise to hold themselves out.

 

Hiccup sat up rigidly from his place on the shore, having sat down after Jack stood up to test the ice, when he saw Jack wobble a little. His widened green eyes relaxed as he saw Jack steady himself before pushing forward again, sighing in relief.

 

The skates took Jack a few minutes to get used to, with their crude imitation of the skates he’d previously been accustomed to; they were heavier than his old pair had been, but his old skates were frayed at the toes and the leather was coming undone, ripping itself apart at the seams with age. These were new, fresh, and needed to be broken in.

 

And so, Jack did it slowly.

 

First, with short, smooth and slow glides along the ice, gradually growing in speed and length, relaxing his nervous stomach with even breaths. He circled around the pond and met Hiccup’s eyes every now and then, smiling at the intrigue and curiosity written on his masked face.

 

Hiccup sat up, gently removing Toothless’s head from his lap in order to better watch Jack glide along the ice.

 

There were a couple times when Jack was about to stumble and fall, but he managed to stop himself before he did, righting himself back up and continuing on. It wasn’t long before he became used to how the shoes felt around his feet, his feet that he usually hated being covered and confined by shoes and boots, but they were snug around his ankles. Although some bits rubbed against his skin, it didn’t bother him.

 

It wasn’t long before his legs grew used to the added weight and he began gliding along the pond with graceful turns, in gentle circles, and with a balance he rarely showed when not on water or ice.

 

After a particularly strong push of his legs, Jack held his arms out, closed his eyes and smiled as the air blew against the front of his face and through his locks of short brown hair.

 

It might’ve been a crude imitation and Hiccup might laugh at him if he were to say it out loud, say it was nothing like being up in the sky with the clouds and mountains below him. But whenever Jack went ice-skating, it always gave him that sensation that he loved; the imitation of flying.

 

If he imagined and pretended enough, he could fly.

 

Time was meaningless to him as he skated, forgetting where he was and who he was with, even for just a brief moment, drinking in the imagined sensation of flying as he slid on the ice. Minutes passed before Jack even remembered that he was not on the pond in the woods by his house, coming to a slow stop and walking himself to the edge of the pond. He sucked in breaths and exhaled, the smile unable to quite leave his face.

 

Smoothing down his wind-blown hair and the front of his coat, he finally allowed himself a moment to recall who was with him-- and felt the back of his neck grow warm as he cleared his throat and looked at Hiccup properly.

 

Tucking his hands behind the small of his back and playing with his belt in a nervous tic, Jack smiled. “They seem to fit pretty well when you’re skating. For someone who doesn’t know a thing about ice-skating, you seemed to know what you were doing. Thanks.”

 

Hiccup just stared up at him from his seat by the water, green eyes partly hidden behind the locks of messy auburn hair. His lips were slightly parted.

 

Jack thought that the tips of his ears were red.

 

His smile faltered. “Hiccup?”

 

Green eyes blinked rapidly and the prince’s body language went rigid. He sat up properly and cleared his throat, looking at Jack. He gave a small smile and a huff of laughter. 

 

“I’m glad.”

 

Jack was pleased to see pride flicker in Hiccup’s eyes and in the curve of his smile. It lit up his face, masked as it was. His own smile returned and he watched as the prince stood up, his own skates still sitting on the bank of the pond.

 

“Kind of a natural, aren’t you?” Hiccup said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “You took to that like a fish does water.”

 

Jack’s grin broadened into a bit of a smirk and he shrugged in a show of faux humility. “It’s a talent, no big deal, really.”

 

Hiccup snorted. “You’re humble.”

 

“You’re one to talk, what with you showing off with your snow-boarding on the mountains weeks ago,” Jack shot back, his eyes narrowing playfully.

 

Hiccup stared, and then lowered his head in an acquiescent sigh. He was smiling. “Well, I guess you’ve got me there. Can’t deny that.”

 

“You’re just as competitive as the rest of them, if not more so.”

 

Hiccup‘s smile spread into a smirk. “Did you see what I have to deal with? Being competitive is a necessity around here.” His lips curved further as he looked at Jack from beneath his bangs, the smirk softening. “But you can be pretty competitive, too.”

 

Jack’s mouth relaxed and he chuckled a laugh through his nose, shrugging. “Yeah, I know I can be.”

 

Hiccup hummed quietly under his breath and watched as Toothless sniffed along the edges of the bank, crooning and blinking curiously at the lines grooved into the ice from the blades of Jack’s skates.

 

Tilting his head to the side, Jack narrowed his eyes in bemusement and Hiccup barked out a laugh, strangely hoarse, when the Night Fury licked at the ice.

 

Jack’s gaze turned from the curious dragon to the prince, still watching the Night Fury pace about the pond, and finally fell upon the skates laying by Hiccup’s legs.

 

“Why haven’t you put them on yet? Your skates.”

 

“Hmm? Oh, well...” Hiccup looked at the skates and took one in his hand, moving it about and staring down at his handiwork with a small frown. “I wanted to see how yours worked out for you before I gave it a shot.”

 

Well, Jack supposed that was a legitimate concern, and he could see there was truth in it by the pull of Hiccup’s mouth. But.. 

 

“Is that the only reason?” He asked, voice taking on a gentler tone.

 

Hiccup stared at him, and then lowered his eyes back to the skates. His grip on them tightened. “..I wasn’t kidding when I said that I don’t know how to. It’s--” The tips of his ears turned red and he sighed. “It’s kinda embarrassing, especially when you’re _this_ good at it..”

 

Jack gazed down at the prince for a long held beat, long after the other male started mumbling incoherent things to himself. With a close of his eyes and a sigh, Jack leaned over to lightly bop the top of Hiccup’s head, earning an indignant noise and a look.

 

“The first time my father taught me how to skate, I couldn’t balance myself at all and fell right on my face on the ice. I’m pretty sure if I’d been any bigger or fell harder, I would’ve broken my nose or lost one of my teeth. It took me weeks to get used to the feeling of skating, and then years to get where I am now.” Jack cocked his head to the side, and his reproachful frown softened.

 

“How long did it take you to figure out how to build Toothless’s prosthetic tail?”

 

“...Nearly a month of prototypes and experiments,” Hiccup admitted, frowning down at his knees.

 

“So, you didn’t figure out how to make it work the first round you tried,” Jack said. His smile returned. “I saw some of your past attempts in Gobber’s shop. Pretty impressive for a kid who had no idea what he was doing. And here you are now after.. how many attempts?”

 

“..Nearly six or more,” Hiccup said, looking up at Jack, expression cautious and hesitant. At least he wasn’t trying to hide anymore.

 

Jack’s smile widened into a grin. “So don’t worry about falling or tripping over yourself. You’re allowed to mess up and fall on your butt. Now get up, put on your skates, and join me on the ice already, will you?”

 

Toothless was content to wait on the shore and watch with all the curiosity of a warm-bellied house cat, cocking his head to the side as he watched Hiccup stand on shaky legs on the ice.

 

The prince wasn’t used to boots that were much heavier than his normal ones were, nor was he used to having to watch his balance due to the blades on the bottom of his feet. He nearly fell forward a couple times as he tried to stand, the Night Fury’s ear-fins raising in alarm and his back tensing, ready to catch his rider.

 

Jack stopped him before he managed to fall forward, keeping his ground and managing to stand tall and straight as he helped keep the anxious and nervous prince from falling flat on his face.

 

Gently sliding back, Jack reached his hands forward to grasp Hiccup’s elbows in a firm grip.

 

“Breathe, will you?” He said teasingly, raising his brows in what he hoped was comfort. “Just try to straighten your back, keep your balance-- like you told me to when you were teaching me how to board down the mountain. It’s actually not too different.”

 

Hiccup stared at him for a long, pregnant pause, but the suggestion appeared to work as the prince exhaled slowly and managed to right himself with his back straightened. Jack observed the prince and grinned in satisfaction to see that Hiccup’s legs had, for the most part, stopped wobbling. They looked more secure and steady.

 

“All right,” Jack chirped, pleased. “Now push forward on your dominant leg, not too hard; just enough to move you forward.”

 

Hiccup swallowed and licked his bottom lip, looking adorably nervous, and Jack noticed the wet shine of his mouth in the moonlight. He stared at it longer than was deemed appropriate.

 

Catching himself and blinking, he lowered his hands from Hiccup’s elbows and pushed himself back to watch Hiccup move forward, as well as to give him enough room.

 

Green eyes squinted down at the ice and Hiccup pursed his lips as he gave a single push with his left leg, bringing him forward. He started at how smooth the glide was.

 

“This,” he breathed, coming to a steady halt, “is a really weird feeling.”

 

Chuckling, Jack slid around the prince in a large circle, grinning cheekily at the disgruntled purse of Hiccup’s mouth. “Not much like flying, is it?” He grinned.

 

“Not in the slightest,” Hiccup grumbled, swallowing and cautiously guiding himself forward.

 

Jack observed Hiccup’s posture, smiled, chuckled and shook his head. “You’re way too stiff, you gotta relax. Don’t worry about falling, because if you do--”

 

His smile widened into a warm grin.

 

“I’ll catch you.”

 

* * *

 

 

As he was with all things, Hiccup proved to be a quick learner. Whether because he was naturally good at picking up on new things right away or Jack’s merits as a teacher, Jack wasn’t sure, but he watched and indulged himself with a bit of pride as Hiccup slowly circled around the pond, following after him with smoother strides.

 

Once Hiccup stopped being so afraid of the ice and the thought of falling right through it, it became easier for the prince; he started taking more heavy slides and twisting his hips to make sharper turns. He stumbled a couple of times, but Jack was always there to catch him.

 

The second time Hiccup tried to make a sharp turn, he nearly knocked the both of them over. It was only Jack’s sense of balance and keeping his ground that stopped that from happening. The prince’s chin was pressing against his collarbone and Jack noticed, belatedly, how warm Hiccup’s breath felt against his neck, how close his lips were.

 

His neck felt oddly cold when Hiccup managed to right himself and move away, back to gliding on the ice. Jack attempted not to think about it, rubbing his neck every so often without noticing.

 

It wasn’t long before Hiccup started skating along the pond with more confidence, a smile twitching on his mouth and arms spread out. While Jack didn’t stand on the sidelines, he still took time to watch the prince and the shift in his expressions.

 

“Not so bad, right?” Jack asked, gliding to a stop in front of him, hands tucked behind his back.

 

Stopping, just as Jack showed him how to, Hiccup grinned and ducked his head, laughing sheepishly. “I guess not. It’s actually... pretty fun.”

 

Jack’s smile widened into a smug smirk. He crossed his arms and tapped the tip of his blade against the ice, audible and echoing in the still of the night. “Told you so--”

 

Hiccup groaned, giving a fond roll of his eyes. His mouth twitched. “How did I know that you would say that?”

 

“Simple: you predicted that you were going to be nervous about being on the ice for the first time and had the words of gratitude prepared for me ahead of time, because I’m just that good,” Jack said, smirking as his eyes crinkled with mirth and teasing.

 

Hiccup gave him a dry look and pushed forward, gliding along the ice and brushing their shoulders together in a light tap.

 

Jack saw a hint of a grin on his face.

 

“You’re a humble kinda guy, aren’t you?”

 

“Only because I know I’m the best at ice-skating,” he grinned, narrowing his eyes as he followed after the prince. “But who knows; with enough training, you might even be able to surpass me. But don’t hold your breath.”

 

Hiccup’s eyes narrowed. His lips spread into a smirk and Jack felt his chest lighten and fill with warmth.

 

“We’ll see about that.”

 

Jack’s brown eyes shimmered in the moonlight with challenge.

 

He wasn’t sure how long they were out on the ice for. It was long enough for the forest and mountains to be as still as a pool of water on a warm day with no wind nor rain. Toothless was still sleeping on the edge of the bank, breathing quietly, but his green eyes flickered open every so often to check up on his rider. 

 

It was long enough for Jack’s knees to be screaming with sore muscles and aching tendons from standing and stretching them for as long as they’d been skating.

 

They had to have been out on the ice for an hour, no, two hours at the least. Possibly more.

 

It was far too easy to lose track of the time.

 

He hadn’t even noticed.

 

They were resting their legs on the bank, Jack flat on his back against the snow. He could hear Hiccup shuffling next to him as he took off the skates. He heard the prince sigh in relief and imagined that he was massaging his feet. He fingered at the snow and felt it melt beneath his touch.

 

The snow crunched beneath Hiccup’s body as he layed down.

 

Jack heard Hiccup’s labored breathing and smiled when he heard the laugh huff out through the prince’s nose.

 

“That...” Hiccup breathed, the smile in his voice audible and endearing in its earnestness, “Was a lot more fun than I thought it’d be.”

 

Jack’s mouth twitched and he chuckled, eyes opening to slits. Snowflakes fell towards his eyes and he gently blew them away.

 

“Am I allowed to say, ‘I told you so,’ now?” He joked.

 

Hiccup snorted. Jack could see the prince rolling his eyes without having to turn to look at him.

 

“I’m half-inclined to say that, sure, you can, but then you’d get all smug and crow about it for days, so. No. You don’t get to say that.”

 

Jack huffed and pouted, exaggerated and childish and not at all sincere. “You’re no fun,” he lied.

 

“Oh, yes,” Hiccup drawled, “I’m the most boring, straight-laced prince there ever was, if the twins were to tell you anything, which I’m sure they have. I’m so boring that I’d never dare go against every tradition I knew and was taught, and befriend and train a dragon.”

 

Toothless warbled in confirmation, huffing a breath against the crown of Hiccup’s snow-ridden auburn hair.

 

“Let’s not get into technicalities, Hiccup,” Jack said quickly, earning a snort of laughter from the prince beside him. “You have your fun moments, I’ll give you that.”

 

Hiccup chuckled and raised a hand to meet the tip of Toothless’s snout as the dragon came closer, laying down beside his rider. He rubbed the front of his nose and Hiccup’s green eyes slit open to look at the contented face of his dragon. “I’ll take what I can get.”

 

Jack smiled and said nothing. His eyes remained closed; there was nothing that needed to be said.

 

Comforting silence was something he hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages.

 

(It’d only been less than two weeks, if even that. But it felt so much longer.)

 

Neither young man said a word and let the gentle wind speak for them as they rested in the snow. Thicker clouds were growing deep within the mountains with the promise of snow to come. Jack heard Toothless warble quietly and the shifting of the snow as his tail moved against the ground. There was a wet feeling on the tip of his tongue, the strange warmth that came with each snowfall. It wouldn’t be long before it began.

 

His eyes were still closed when Hiccup spoke, breaking the spell of silence.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Jack stopped fingering at the snow. “For what?”

 

“For-- Well, you know--”

 

He heard Hiccup shift, the snow moving and loosening under the weight of his body. Jack’s eyes cracked open and beneath his hair, saw that Hiccup had turned halfway onto his side to look at him. His messy auburn locks were in his eyes, disheveled and tired, but he was smiling.

 

“For getting me to make these skates, for teaching me how to skate.. and,” Hiccup paused, pursing his lips and licking at his bottom one in thought, “For still being willing to spend time with me.”  


Jack stared at him, the smile long gone from his lips.

 

Hiccup wasn’t looking at him, and there was a wry curl to his mouth as he stared back up at the dark grey-blue of the sky, watching the snow clouds drift closer into the valley.

 

They did not speak of it, the reason for their mutual silence for nearly two weeks. Two weeks that felt as if they’d stretched for nearly a month, and Hiccup was growing quiet again, closing in on himself for some stupid reason that Jack couldn’t understand. He could see it in the concerned crinkle of Toothless’s eyes and the tightened body language of the prince.

 

Jack looked up at the sky and tried not to think about how much he suddenly wanted to brush those locks out of Hiccup’s face. They always kept getting into his eyes; even with the mask, that had to be bothersome.

 

Hicucp’s hair looked soft to the touch.

 

“When I promise to go ice-skating, I mean to come through with that promise,” Jack murmured. “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have brought it up in the first place.” He inhaled and allowed a smile to return. “Besides-- What better way to enrich your boring royal life than by teaching you how to skate, seeing as you’ve apparently been living under a rock all your life.”

 

Toothless’s ear-fins shot up when Hiccup burst out laughing.

 

His laughter came out in peals, and there was a hoarse croak to them, as if they were clawing to get out of his chest and stomach, struggling past the confines of his mouth. A distressing sound to anyone else, but they were full of such joy that Jack couldn’t help but _look_ at him.

 

He swallowed, but there was no breath left in him as he stared at the still-laughing prince.

 

Throughout the month and a half they’d known each other, ever since he’d settled in Berk, he’d never seen Hiccup laugh so.. heartily.

 

He chuckled, he snorted through his nose before following up with a clever quip full of humor, and he huffed his laughs; but never had he been so overt and expressive in his joy. Even with the mask on his face, disguising how his cheeks crinkled with how wide his smile was as he laughed, Jack could see the pure mirth that was written on the prince’s face.

 

Speechless, Jack could only watch as the prince’s laughs fell to small chuckles, Hiccup then gingerly pushing himself up onto his elbows and then his hands. The moon peeked out from behind the clouds drawing closer to them. It appeared only briefly, but he saw its shine through Hiccup’s auburn hair, giving the strands a reddened highlight.

 

Hiccup was smiling, staring down at his knees.

 

Even from this angle..

 

His green eyes looked so _bright_.

 

His fingers, hand now laid across his stomach, grasped at the front of his cloak and he swallowed. There was a warmth in his chest that was almost uncomfortable, but it seeped through his entire body like honey on a warm slice of bread his mother had just pulled out of the oven. He felt it in his pores and his head swam because he couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before.

 

It was new and it was frightening.

 

_And yet--_

 

Hiccup looked at him and Jack glanced away, his cheeks suddenly feeling too hot. Clearing his throat, he sat up. Rubbing his neck, he managed a smile that widened into something more genuine at the puzzled expression on the prince’s face. Instead of saying something right away, he stood and brushed the snow off of his pants. Leaning back, he stretched out his back. Hiccup was still sitting on the ground, his skates placed by his feet, and Jack smiled down at him.

 

“What do you say for another round before heading back?” His eyes narrowed playfully. “Feet still sore? Or are you already bored with skating, even as the novice you are?”

 

“Bored? _Me?_ ” Hiccup asked, hand placed against his heart in faux offense. His lips twitched, unable to hide the laugh behind them. “I dare not think of it.”

 

It was difficult to say how late it was. Time had been lost while they were skating, and as they both returned to the ice, both young men found little in themselves able to care about its passage. Jack remarked, playfully, that Hiccup was getting better at skating despite being so new to it; and it was true. Now that he had more experience, he wasn’t as afraid of falling on the ice anymore and became more confident in his strokes along the frozen surface.

 

He still wasn’t as much of a risk-taker as Jack was in terms of the tricks he performed while skating, being uncomfortable with doing such as of yet, but he still enjoyed himself. They even challenged each other to a race of who could circle on the ice five times in less time than the other.

 

It was a close call, but Jack wound up winning. Of course.

 

More than once did Jack have to grab the back of Hiccup’s shirt to keep him from falling over when he got a little too confident, earning the startled cry of the Night Fury watching them on the bank. Jack catching him eased the dragon’s worries and Hiccup’s wobbling smile was adorably sheepish as he thanked Jack.

 

Breath catching and feeling the pulse of his heart in his throat, Jack swallowed, rubbed the back of his neck and waved Hiccup’s gratitude off with a grin.

 

Turning so that his back faced Hiccup, he rubbed his chest and exhaled slowly.

 

He felt his heart through his clothing, beating much faster than it should. His collar felt far too warm and he felt strangely breathless.

 

(How odd it was that this was becoming far more common around Hiccup.)

 

Returning to skate around the prince in circles, hands tucked behind his back and hidden underneath his cloak, Jack chased away the tight warmth in his chest.

 

The pair alternated between talking about meaningless, mundane things and comfortable silence. Jack spoke of how quickly the children were learning at their training sessions and how eager they were to start flying and working with their own dragons, of Meatlug’s babies and how strangely adorable Belch and Barf were; the two-headed dragon had taken a liking to him, much to his surprise.

 

Laughing, Hiccup said, “You must’ve tossed both of them a snack, didn’t you?”

 

Jack blinked innocently, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

Hiccup’s eyes narrowed at the casual trill of his voice.

 

“You gave them both lamb, didn’t you?”

 

Jack shrugged and whistled casually, trying to appear innocent. “They kept nudging me.”

 

Hiccup shook his head. “No wonder then.”

 

“I like to think it was my boyish charm that won them over, but giving them some nice meat certainly helped,” Jack grinned.

 

Hiccup snorted derisively and Jack retaliated to the insult with a snowball to the face.

 

Jack barked laughter at the prince’s startled face only to eat snow in return. And as they completed the snowball fight that Jack started, it felt as if the last two weeks hadn’t happened at all. Jack curled the snow that bit into his skin against his palm, packing it tight before throwing it at Hiccup, nearly causing the prince to stumble and fall right on his royal arse, and laughed as if they hadn’t spoken at all that night in Gobber’s forge. He yelped as snow trickled down his nape, glaring indignantly at Hiccup’s loud, triumphant laughter and almost forgot that it’d happened at all.

 

But it did, and he either spent his nights alone or with the other dragon riders he’d come to cautiously call his friends, and he’d gone a week without seeing the prince at all. How quiet and lonely they’d been, how often did he wonder what Hiccup was doing, how much did he strain his ears for the sound of the uneven, erratic footsteps of a young man who could never stop moving, only to find it gone before he could seek him out.

 

It’d happened, and it made Jack realize just how much he’d missed Hiccup.

 

He realized how vital Hiccup being there had become, how necessary he was. He didn’t know when it became natural to want to be around Hiccup as much as he could.

 

He only knew when there was an empty space next to him at dinner.

 

Calves twitching in exertion and his breathing heavy, Jack steadied himself to catch his breath, sucking in the cold and raising his gaze to Hiccup. He stilled.

 

The happy flush of laughter and melted snow colored the pieces of his skin that Jack could see, trickling all the way down to his neck and collarbone in faint pink waves. His green eyes were bright and his lips were spread in a wide smile, showing more emotion than Jack thought he’d ever seen.

 

It was beautiful.

 

Jack was sure that if he ripped the mask right off of his face to seewhat was hidden beneath the leather, it’d be even more beautiful.

 

_I want to see you laugh like that more. I want to be the cause of it._ **_I want---_ **

 

“If I told you, ‘thank you,’ again, would you hit me?” Hiccup smiled.

 

Jack blinked, straightening himself up and plastering a smile on his face. He ignored the thrumming of his heart that trembled into his stomach. “I _would_ consider it, I would consider it quite seriously, so don’t you dare,” Jack narrowed his eyes, playfulness returning. “Got it?”

 

Snorting, Hiccup raised an eyebrow and bowed, hand pressed against his chest in an exaggerated show of submission and adherence. “Understood, Mr. Overland.”

 

Jack’s nose wrinkled and he groaned, “You make me sound _old_ , ugh. Call me that again and I’ll start getting white hair.”

 

Hiccup’s grin grew wider and more cheeky.

 

Jack’s stomach most definitely _did not_ flip at the devious spark to it (it did), nor at the sing-song lilt to the prince’s voice as he promised, “Oh, I shan’t ever call you such an elderly name ever again, _although_ \--”

 

Hiccup paused and huffed a breath of laughter.

 

“With how much you love the snow and don’t ever seem bothered by it, I’m sure it won’t be long before it finally does turn white.”

 

Snorting, Jack crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t fight the laughter bubbling beneath his breast. “I’ll guess we’ll just have to wait to find out if that happens.”

 

The stillness of the winter air around them suddenly became more louder when Hiccup didn’t respond. Jack didn’t realize the weight of what he’d just said until he opened an eye to see the odd expression on Hiccup’s face, one that made his breath catch harshly in the hollow of his throat; widened green eyes full of disbelief and.. perhaps hope?

 

Before Jack could take it back and return themselves to the comfortable companionship of before, Hiccup managed a smile that looked crooked and unnatural on his face, laughing as he tugged a stray lock of auburn hair out of his face.

 

“I guess we will,” was all he said.

 

After a beat, unable to stand the awkwardness of the silence that fell between them again and afraid of what that would mean for them in the days to come, Jack added, “And if you start calling me _Mr. Overland_ , I’ll start calling you _Your Highness_ and you will **_hate_** it.”

 

Hiccup’s nose wrinkled in comical disgust and horror and Jack’s peals of laughter pierced through the night air. The lull was forgotten.

 

* * *

 

 

It was Toothless’s loud yawn for attention that drew both Hiccup and Jack to realize that it was late; much later than they’d ever stayed up together. The moon was still bright in the sky, no sun to be found for several more hours, but the sleepiness of early morning was seducing both the humans and the dragon to return.

 

“Is it really that late?” Hiccup said, skating over to the attention-deprived dragon and rubbing the Night Fury’s chin. “I didn’t even notice...”

 

The dragon rumbled appreciatively and Jack watched his breath billow into the air as he exhaled, “I didn’t either.” He pursed his lips and skated towards the prince and his dragon. “Should we go?”

 

“Are you ready to?”

 

Jack looked down at his skates, then up at the sky. A snowflake fell on his lashes and he blinked. He looked back down and beamed, his smile wavering only a small amount. “It’s snowing. Why don’t we stay a little longer? Just to watch the snow?”

 

Hiccup cocked his head, brows furrowed beneath his mask in worry. “You’re not tired?”

 

He was. Jack could feel his eyelids growing heavier and drooping. He had to blink hard to stay awake and lucid enough to not teeter off of his feet.

 

“I am,” he admitted after a beat. “But I don’t want to leave just yet.”

 

There was a plea in his voice that he didn’t know he had, some desperate urge deep in his chest that he wanted to grasp onto and not let go. Tired as he was and as much as his body wanted sleep, he did not want to go back to the manor only for silence to settle between them again. He did not want to go another week without seeing Hiccup smile, hearing his laugh, or feeling his warmth beside him. He didn’t want to go another day without it.

 

Subtly, Hiccup’s eyes widened beneath his mask as he heard the rougher edge to Jack’s voice that had his own protest dying in his mouth. Whatever resistance he was going to put up, no matter how concerned he was for Jack, surrendered. A small smile was left in place of the sterner frown.

 

“Okay. We can stay a bit longer.”

 

The skates were left on the frozen bank and their boots were back on. Toothless had his head half-sitting in Hiccup’s lap and the prince was absently stroking his scales behind the ear-fins. Jack could hear the light scritch of dull nails against firm scales and the quiet, happy rumble of the Night Fury, pleased at the attention and affection he was receiving. The snow that fell onto Toothless’s snout melted in an instant with each breath the dragon gave. Toothless’s tail was pressing gently against Jack’s thigh and he stared at it in amazement.

 

Hiccup grinned, laughing softly through his nose at the gobsmacked look on the other male’s face.

 

“I told you that he’d warm up to you,” he said with a broader grin as Toothless’s tail nudged against Jack’s leg, demanding attention.

 

It was in awestruck silence that Jack started to stroke and pet the once aloof Night Fury’s tail, amazed at the gift that’d been given to him.

 

Toothless was affectionate with other dragons that he felt comfortable with, but he only let a handful of humans touch him in such an affectionate way. Hiccup was his most important human, obviously, and he allowed Astrid, Stoick and Valka to stroke his neck or scratch underneath his chin. With other humans, he kept his distance but was friendly.

 

He once let Jack touch his snout but never took the initiative to ask for affection from him since then. Jack had accepted this not a week into living at Berk. When Toothless wanted attention, he went to Hiccup, who always indulged him.

 

As Jack once again marveled at how smooth and warm Toothless’s scales were, he felt as if he was being let into a very small circle of trust, and was grateful for it. A silly grin and laughter filtered deep in his chest at the happy, rough, purr-like noise rumbled through the dozing Night Fury. He felt the vibrations in his hands.

 

Jack suddenly missed the auburn dragon with a fervor and hoped that he was well.

 

Blinking away the somber thoughts of his draconic friend, Jack huffed a laugh, continuing to stroke the dragon’s tail. His grin grew at the pleased rumble from Toothless. “I’m just surprised, is all. I’m glad that he finally seems to like me, now.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Hiccup laughed, shrugging his shoulders and tapping his heels against the icy surface of the pond, “It’s hard to _not_ like you. Some dragons are just more aloof than others. It was only a matter of time before Toothless warmed up to you.”

 

Jack looked at the prince and they smiled at each other, no words needing to be said.

 

Toothless’s soft breathing and happy rumbles filled the silence and the snow continued to fall around them.

 

Unwitting, Jack’s eyes fell to the crooked but gentle curve of Hiccup’s mouth as the prince smiled. It faltered a little when Toothless nudged his head further into his lap, then parted to show white teeth a little too large as he laughed, brushing snow off of the dragon’s brow.

 

_I wonder what they’d feel like._

 

It came as a whisper and as it sunk in, Jack felt his face grow too warm for comfort and he had to look away, staring out instead into the dark clouds of the night, snow descending from up on high. He could feel it in his hair and on his face. The flakes melted against his too-warm skin. His strokes along Toothless’s tail were no less affectionate.

 

“I’m happy that he likes me,” Jack said softly with a smile. “I like all the dragons here, along with everyone else.”

 

Hiccup’s brows rose and he shifted slightly, just enough to not disturb Toothless. “Really?”

 

“Well,” Jack said, eyes glittering with humor, “I like some people more than most, but, yeah. I do. I.. I really like it here.”

 

Hiccup’s eyes lowered to his knees and he worried his bottom lip. “Do you really?”

 

“Yes,” Jack said, feeling not a sliver of hesitation. He was looking at Hiccup now and he wasn’t smiling. His lips were in a firm line, not stern; only self-assured.

 

He watched how Hiccup chewed on his lip. “Do you miss your home?”

 

Jack stared at the other male and upon seeing that vulnerable crinkle of the prince’s eyes, he looked away. His fingers curled against Toothless’s scales, his jaw clenched.

 

Bright green eyes slit open to glance at the two humans.

 

“I miss my family,” Jack admitted, “I think about them every day and I miss them horribly. I write to them as much as I can but, well, it’s never quite the same as being with them. I want to see them again, soon.”

 

Hiccup hummed and when Jack looked at him, he saw that he was smiling. It wasn’t a happy one; more sad, but also affectionate. “I know. You can go see them again whenever you like, you know. All you have to do is ask, and I can take you back.”

 

_And you don’t have to return_.

 

It was left unsaid, but Jack could still feel it in the air. It made him frown heavily, some annoyance curling up in his chest at how overly self-sacrificing Hiccup was; to forget about his own feelings for the sake of Jack’s, to go back on his own wants so that Jack could disregard his own promises and agreements. As if he hadn’t agreed willingly and consciously.

 

As if Hiccup believed that Jack’s own feelings weren’t as strong or as serious as his.

 

It infuriated Jack.

 

“I want to visit my family soon, but I’m not going to move back in with them. I’m not going to leave.”

 

Jack had always marveled at how still the air was whenever it snowed thick flakes, big as aqua marbles, and yet trickles of warmth still lingered in the cold air. He admired how the snow stuck onto everything. White crusted along the crown of Hiccup’s hair as the prince stared at him in astonishment, green eyes wide. His mouth was slightly parted, lips pink from the cold and teeth constantly chewing on them.

 

Now, the snow was even more pleasing and beautiful as it landed in Hiccup’s hair.

 

Steeling his resolve, Jack swallowed and continued, the words falling out of his mouth before he could swallow them shut.

 

“Hiccup, I _love_ it here. I love being around the dragons everyday, knowing that they’re living in peace with humans and befriending them. I love the cold, the snow, the mountains, the sea that’s so close I can smell it every time I step outside. I can’t wait to see what Berk looks like in the spring or summer. It might be rough here but I think it’s beautiful. I like how everyone is just.. themselves, and I--”

 

Jack paused and closed his mouth before words he was not ready to say came out. He licked his bottom lip and felt Hiccup’s gaze on him, intense and piercing. Hiccup hadn’t said a word to interrupt him. He seemed too in shock to say **anything**.

 

Toothless was awake now and he slowly slid his head off of Hiccup’s lap.

 

Sucking in a breath and feeling more bashful and unsure than before, Jack continued.

 

“..I like it here, and I like being here with you. If I hadn’t meant it, I wouldn’t have agreed to come here and marry you in the first place. Idiot.”

 

Hiccup blinked slowly and a sudden chortle leapt out of his throat, higher pitched and almost disbelieving. His ears were red but there were hints of a smile on his face. The smile was almost there, but it was still too shy, too self-deprecating. 

 

“You don’t need to tell me these things to make me feel better--”

 

“I’m _not_ ,” Jack snapped, frustration spilling over and shutting the prince up in an instant. “I’m not saying all this to make you feel better, I’m saying this because I **want** to and I _mean_ it.” Sucking in a breath to calm his racing nerves, he sighed and his face softened.

 

He didn’t know when he edged closer to Hiccup, but their shoulders were just centimeters from touching now.

 

Jack could feel Hiccup’s breath on his face.

 

“I want to see my family, but I don’t want to leave Berk. I made a promise and I intend to fulfill it.”

 

Hiccup stared at Jack and he swallowed.

 

Jack followed the line of his throat and then looked into forest green.

 

Hiccup raised a hand to brush snow out of Jack’s hair, smiling at the scrunched expression on Jack’s face. “Sorry,” he murmured, “It was getting in your bangs.”

 

His smile was warm, small as it was, and the movement of his fingers was gentle. Jack looked at him and his body moved of its own accord.

 

Before Hiccup could lower it, Jack took the prince’s hand in his own while he leaned forward. Jack’s eyes closed and he used his knees to lift himself up, mouth parting, seeing a flash of Hiccup’s widening eyes growing closer and the snowflakes resting on his lashes before they fell shut.

 

Chapped. Thin. Unmoving but so very warm and _soft_.

 

It was only a mere press, quick and stumbling. A little peck and yet Jack still felt his heart in his throat, beating too fast for him to breathe normally. It was quickened and his face was far too hot.

 

Jack pulled back, both hands now gripping Hiccup’s. They shook a little as the reality of Jack’s own actions rushed to meet him. Face flushed, he pressed his own lips together and stared at Hiccup from beneath his snow-crusted bangs.

 

Hiccup’s mouth was parted and his eyes were wide. His ears were a stark red and he looked so adorably shocked, stunned and amazed that Jack couldn’t help his silly, teasing grin.

 

“For such a genius inventor, you’re kind of dumb sometimes, you know.”

 

His grin grew at the prince’s scoff and the upward twitch of Hiccup’s mouth. The prince was visibly startled and flustered still, but no longer did he look like a frightened rabbit caught outside of its den by a hunter.

 

“Still going at it with the insults and stuff, I see,” Hiccup rasped, smile slowly widening.

 

Jack shivered at how husky and low his voice was and his grin grew at the hesitant happiness that Hiccup was starting to allow himself to feel, visible in his face, masked as it was. Jack didn’t need to see the face beneath to see it--

 

All he had to do was look at those beautiful green eyes.

 

“Sorry,” Jack smirked, not apologetic at all. He sounded more confident than he felt. “That’s not going away anytime soon; you’re stuck with me.”

 

Hiccup tilted his head and he looked so **hopeful** that the smirk melted away in an instant.

 

“Are you really?” Hiccup asked.

 

Jack felt Hiccup’s hands squeeze his. Those fingers, rough and calloused, scarred from years of work and violence, shook against his own smooth skin. He squeezed them back and Jack gave a hard swallow, the smirk long gone and replaced with a more wry smile.

 

“Let me put it in a way that’ll finally get through that stupidly thick, stubborn, big-haired head of yours,” he started, ignoring Hiccup’s ‘hey!’ of protest and shutting him up with another squeeze of his hands. “If you asked me again, right now, I-”

 

Licking his lips, his smile widened.

 

“I wouldn’t hesitate.”

 

Toothless sat up and lifted his head towards the clouds, thick and heavy with the snow that continued to fall. He unfolded one wing and held it above the pair of humans, shielding them from the faint light of the moon hiding behind the churning darkness of the night and keeping the snow from interrupting them.

 

The dragon chanced a quick glance towards his human and the boy that smelled of the south. A soft, deep-throated purr rumbled in his chest at his rider’s happiness, so strong that he could **taste** it.

 

Jack’s hands released Hiccup’s and raised to the prince’s face.

 

Hiccup’s eyes widened, hysteric happiness dashed with fear, and he lifted his own hands to stop Jack--- 

 

But Jack’s hands landed on the back of his head, fingers lost in the thick auburn hair and Hiccup’s spine shuddered at his soft touch. He sagged beneath it and his eyes closed, palms clasping around Jack’s upper arms.

 

Their lips met in a proper kiss, soft and yielding. 

 

Elation rushed through Hiccup like an avalanche and his hold on Jack grew just a bit more firm. His hands moved and they shook as, for the first time, Hiccup let himself hold the sides of Jack’s face in his palms, bringing him closer as he kissed him.

 

He felt Jack’s smile against his mouth and he returned it.

 

Hiccup’s lips were as warm and soft as they were the first time and they fit so nicely against Jack’s. And this time, Hiccup wasn’t frozen stiff in shock; he was returning it and his hands were on his face, holding him with such tenderness that Jack nearly vibrated from how warm he felt. His lips were warm, his hands were warm and Jack wanted to feel **more**.

 

Leaning forward enough so that their chests lightly pressed together, Jack wrapped his arms around Hiccup’s shoulders, pressing his lips against Hiccup’s with more firmness. The hand still in Hiccup’s hair tightened its hold when Hiccup returned the pressure in equal measure. He rubbed the pads of his fingers against the back of Hiccup’s skull and moved closer, their chests now pressing more fully against each other.

 

Sweet as the kiss remained, as gentle as Hiccup continued to be with how he held Jack, he wanted more and pressed his mouth harder against Hiccup’s after a short gasp for breath in hopes of deepening it. He was quickly becoming addicted to how Hiccup’s lips felt on his.

 

He just might have miscalculated how much he’d weigh pressed against the prince, seeing as not moments later, their heavier kiss was cut short by a garbled shout as Hiccup teetered backwards, falling right back onto the ground. He grunted as Jack fell on top of him as a result, knocking their chins against each other.

 

Groaning and rubbing his chin, Hiccup pushed himself up onto his elbows.

 

Half-laying on the prince, Jack hoisted himself up onto his palms and looked down at him, noses inches apart.

 

They stared at each other, their faces flushed, ears pink, and noses bright red from the cold. Snow was sticking to their hair and their clothes were growing cold and wet from sitting in the snow for so long. 

 

Toothless cocked his head and pulled his wing back as he stared at the suddenly laughing pair in confusion.

 

Well--

 

Toothless sniffed and helped pull his rider up, grabbing the back of his flying suit with his teeth. The humans were still giggling amongst themselves and they smelled like each other. His human was smiling at the other, so bright and so _happy_ that Toothless found the smell overwhelming.

 

The other human. He was happy, too. He couldn’t seem to stop holding Hiccup’s hand.

 

They were happy, and Toothless was satisfied.

 

Humans really were the silliest of creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it hasn't been that good of a couple months, y'all. just as i was finishing this chapter up, my grandfather died and then on the drive back from visiting family in memory of him, my beloved dog died half an hour before we got home. getting back into writing has been really difficult, but it's slowly gotten better, so please forgive my slow updates. these take a lot of time to write and even longer to edit. but this will be finished, along with everything else i've started! i'm too dedicated to give up now.
> 
> on a less depressing note--- hope y'all enjoyed this chapter in particular ;)
> 
> thank you for reading, and as always, many thanks to my beta, Adrian, who's stuck with me for this long.


End file.
